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PRICE,] /"Cy VW [15CTS. 

THE ACTING DRAMA, 

No. 46. 



(' 1[ A 1! I T Y . 



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C H A R 1 T Y . 



A PLAY, 



3n i'our Qlcts, 



BY 



■^*^ 



>^ 



t- 



WV S^i*^ G I L B E R T , 

AUXKOU OF "the WICKED WORLD," " PYGMALION AND GALATEA," " THE 
PKINCESS," "the palace OF TRUTH," " TRIAL BY JURY," &C. 



COKKECTLY PRINTED FROM THE PROMPTERS COPY, 'WITH THE CAST OP 

CHARACTERS, COSTUME, SIDES OF KNTRANCK AND EXIT, EELA- 

TIVK POSITIONS OF THE DRAMATIS PERSONiE, SCENE 

AND PKOPEKXY PLOTS, DIAGRAMS OF SETS, 

TIME OF REPRESENTATION, ETC. 



NEW Y O K K : 
HAPPY HOUHS COMPANY, 

^'0. 1 CHAMBERS STREET. 



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GfFT 
EST. OF J, H. CORNING 
JUNE 20. 1940 



C H A E I T Y . 



C A 8 T OF CHARACTERS. 

ILtyniarket Theairt', Londjn. 

Dh. Athelnev, ( a Colonial Bishop-EUci.) Mr. Chippendale. 

'1'ed Athelnev, ( His Son, aged 3 S.) " Teesdale 

Mr. Smailey, [ A Country Gtntleman, aged bo.; " Howe. 

Fred S.mailey, i His Son, aged 22.I " Kendal. 

Mr. Fitz Parting ion, ( A Private Inquiry Officer.) " Buckstone. 

Butler " Clark. 

Footman " James. 

Groom " 

Mrs. V.A.N Brugh, (A IFidcKC, aged JJ. Miss M. Robertson. 

(Mrs. Kend.\l.) 

Eve, fHer Daughter, aged 17. J " A my Koselle. 

Ruth Tredgett, [.l Tramp, aged 37.) " Woolgar. 

vMrs. a. Mellon.) 



TIME OF REPRESENTATION;— IWO HOURS AND FIFTEEN MINU lES 



ACT I. 

rouDoiR /.y ^Ks i'ax brughs country house. 

ACT H. 
AXOTHER ROOM IX MRS. J'A.V BRUCH'S HOUSE. 

ACT III. 
ROOM /.y ^H\. SMAHEV'S HOUSE. 

ACT IV. 

LI BEAR y AT DR. A THELXEY'S. 

\_A/ew days inieri'al Ictiuccn each act.] 



CHARITT. 

COSTUMES. —MODERN. 



PROPERTIES. 

ACT I. 
Carpet down. Windaw curtains K. and i.. on fl.its. Conservatory stands and 
flowers, &c., at back of C. Large round table u.c. Easy cliair on each side. Foot- 
stool in front of table. Sofa R. at back. Work table L.c. at back. Fireplace, man- 
tel, and fire set, complete, t.e i,. Ottoman i.e. Small table and easy chair i.. 
Memorandum book and pencil for Kve. Magic Lantern slides on c. table. A de- 
canter of Sherry. 

ACT n. 

Carpet down. Sideboard in front of backing, with Clock and Pier glass on it. 
Large Pictures R. and L. on flats. Tables with covers R. and L.c. Easy chair L.c. 
Seven other chairs. Easy chairs R. and L. A parcel of needlework. Haifa crown. 

ACT III. 

Crimson drugget down. French window and curtains, t. Evergreens in Garden 
at back. Sofa R. at back. Sideboard L. at back. Large Round table R.c. Easy 
chair c. Small round table and easy chair, L.c. Covers to tables. Easy chair R. 
Writing materials, tapes, sealing wax, seal, &c , on R. table. Sealed note. Ano- 
ther note. 

ACT IV. 

Drugget down. Large table c. Smaller table R.c. Round table L. Fireplace 
set s.E.L , (fire lighted). Fender, Hearth-rug, Sec, &c. Covers to tables. Nine 
chairs. Writing materials and books on c. table. Newspaper on L. table. Bank 
note. P.aper. 



SCENERY. 

ACT L 
Garden Backing. 



5'-'^ Grooves. 




[Glass Door | 
Con servAlory. 



3" Grooves. 



CeftlrsQ-ccrs, 



'O 



I Y/i nlow. ' 



Chair. ,^^Cnaii>-N ^ ,~%- ,, 1*3 

m^ ^Armi Chair. Work Table. V|^ 

^ s^^ Ottcirnan.^ Chairl^V" 

O nafjiej <^ Easv Chair. '^ '^' 

, Easy Chair. 




A Boudoir witli French Window or Centre Door<, opening on to a conservatory 
or Garden backing. Door s.e.r. Fireplace s.e.l. 



mtenor 



ACT II. 

looking Glass 
~» Clock 



Qciock Bacwp!^ ■<4^GrQoves-j 







Another Room in Mus. V.\n Brugh's House. Centre doors. Interior backing 
Doors R. and L. second entrance. 



ACT III. 
Garden Backing. 



V': Grooves. 



5?^ Grooves. 




iMornin:; Room in Mr. Sm.^ii.ey's House, in third grooves. Garden back inii in 
ounii. French Wnidow c. to ground. Doors R. and l.s.e. 



cHAiaTr. 

ACT IV. 
Interior Backing 



5"^ Grooves. 



W^ 



Centre Door. 



_x Chair ^-B^ 

^ Chair ^^ 

X Chair ""'""■ 





Library at Dr. Athei.ney'.s. Centre doors. Interior bacliing. Boole closets i 
flats R. and I.. Fireplace s.e.i.. 



EXPL.\XAT10.V OF THE ST.-VGE DIRECTIONS. 



L., means first entrance left. R., first entrance right. S.E.L., second entrance 
left. S.E.K., second entrance right. U.E.L, upper entrance left, U.E.R.. upper 
entrance right. T.E.L., third entrance left. T.E.R., third entrance right. C, 
centre. L.C., left of centre. R.C., right of centre. CL., centre towards left. 
C.R., centre towards right. D.F., door in flat. L,F., left of flat. R.F., right ol 
fl.u. Observing you are supposed to face the audience. 



C H A R I T Y . 



ACT I. 

Scene.— .4 Pvellij Bo'ulolr in ]\Ies. Van Bkugh's Coiudrij-honse. 
French xoindow c, opeminj oti a consevvidonj. Door s.e.k. Fire- 

plact T.liL, 

Eve discovered iDilh FuKDiinicic ; FitEDEiiicic se<ded on cualr, Eve on 

UhiIhIukL 

Fred. ( Seeded bi easi/ chaii' n.c, dicUdiruj (o Eve, xcho iDrites in a 
ineiiior(u>dum booh <d liis fed. ) Let jue nee. Tliree Luudred orau- 
i^es, nix liundred Ijuus. thirty gallons of tea, twelve large plum cakes, 
fcjo iiiuch for the scliool-children's bodies. As for their iiiiiids — 

Ee>e. ( Seated c, on slaol. ) Oh, we've taken preat care of their 
niiuds. Ill the tinst place, the amateur niiu.strels from Locroft are 
coming, with some lovely part songs. 

Fred. Part .songs. Come, that's well. Dr. Watts? 

Eve. Oh, dear, uo. Doctors Moore and Jiurgess ! JMneli jollier. 
( Tie sludces Ids head (jravelij. ) Theu ,we Lave a magic lantei-n. Hen! 
are the view.s. ( IJondiufi {Iwiii. 

Fred. ( Kcamlnlng ihem. ) A person on horseback galloping at 
full speed. Here he is again. Proljably the flight of Xerxes. 

Eve. No — the flight of John Gilpin. 

Fred. Very trivial, Eve dear ; very trivial. 

Eve. Oh, bnt it will amnse them nnich more than the flight of 
Xorxos. 



Fred. ( Qravehj.) Mj' dear Eve, is this giddiuess quite coiisisteut 
with the nature of the good worlc before us? 

Ei'P. Mayu't one be good and jolly too ? 

Fred. Scarcely. Grave work should be nndeitakeii gravely, and 
with a sense of responsibility. 

JA'C. But I don't call a school feast grave work. 

Fred. All work is grave when one has regard to the issues that 
may come of it. This school feast, trivial as it may seem to you — 
this matter of buns and big plum cakes— may be productive, for ia- 
staiice, of much — of much — 

Eje. Indigestion? That's grave indeed ! ( He seems annoyed. ) 
There, I'm very sorry I teased you, dear old boy ; but you look at 
everything from such a serious point of view. 

Fred. Am I too serious? Perhaps I am. And yet in my quiet 
undemonstrative way I am A'ery happy. 

Eve. If yoH are not happy dear, who should be ? 

Fred. Yes, Eve, who indeed ! ( Kisses li.er. 

Eve. I did not mean that. There is very little in me to make 
such a man as you happy, unless it be the prospect of making me as 
good and earnest as yourself— a poor prospect, I'm afraid, for I'm a 
very silly little girl. 

Fred. At least I will try. 

Ece. Begin now ; (rises from slool) tell me of my faults. 

Fred. (Rises.) No, no"; that would be a very ungrateful task. 

Eve. Oh, if you neglect all tasks tha; are not pleasant, you are too 
like me to allow of my hoping to learu anything of yon. 

( Cross to easy cluiir l.c. ; sils. 

F-ed. Very aptly put, Eve, "Well then, you are too giddj', and 
loo apt to laugh when you should sigh. 

Eve. Oh, "but I am naturally rather— jolly. Mamma has taught 
me to be so. Mamma's views are so entirely oppo.sed to yours. 

Fred. Yes; I am deeply sorry for it. If it were iiot so, perhaps 
Mrs. Van Brugh would like me better. ( Slandbuj over cliair i,.c. 

Eve. Mamma does like you, dear. She thinks you are very grave 
and precise and methodical, but I am sure she likes you — or why did 
she consent to our engagement ? 

Fred. Because she loves you so well that she has the heart to 
thwart you in nothing. She is an admirable woman— good, kind — 
charitable beyond measure — beloved, honored, and courted by all — 

Eve. The best woman in the world. 

(Jumps lip suddenly, places her hands on his shoulders. 

Fred. But she does not understand me. Well time will work a 
change, and I must be content to wait. 

Enler Footm.\n, s.e. i:. 

Footiu'iri. Mv. Edward Atheluey, miss, is iu the drawing-room. 
Eve. Dear me, how tiresome. * 



.CH.\PaT7. - 9 

Fred, (dilinly.) Miss Van. Bnigh i* not at home. CCco.s-.s- /o n c. 

j6.'fe. ( Astoinslied. ) Ob, Frederic!;, I :iiii I 

( Sils I.. *;/'i..c. /((^ie. 7!.x/7 Footman s.k is. 

Fred. (Sits n. of i..c. htble. ) Well, Aes of course iu one sdust; 
you certainly are. 13nt Ijeint^ engai^ed npon ii good work, with which 
au interruntion would scrinr.sly interfere, you may lie said — metii- 
piiorically, of course, and iv.x the purposes of this particular case — to 
he, to a certain exieut, out, 

Ece. (Puzzled.) I am quite sure I am at liome, dear, in ever j' 
possible sense of the word. You don't dislike Edward, do you ? 

Fred. You know very well that I dislike no one. 

Kve. Fni sure of that. You hive all nieu. 

Fred. No doubt. Eve, I ujve all men. But you will understand 
tliat I love some men less than others : and, although I love Edward 
Athelney very much indeed, I love him, j^erliaps, le.ss than anybody 
else iu the worhl. 

Eve. But this is quite astonishing! Has Ted Athelney a fault? 
"What is it? Come, sir, name one fault if you can. And mind, lie's 
my big brother, or as good, so be careful. 

Fred. "Frater nascitur nou Ht." 

Eve. Oh ! 

Fred. I didn't believe in your amateur brother. With every desire 
to confine himself to the duties of the character he undertakes, he is 
nevertheless apt to overlook the exact point where the brother ends 
and the lover begins. 

Eve. (Puzzled.) The lover ! 

Fred. The brother by birth keeps well within bounds, but the 
amateur treads so often on the border line that iu time it becomes 
obliterated and the functions merge. 

Eve. Ted Athelney a lover of mine ! Oh, that's too absurd. Ted 
Athelney — that great, clumsy, middle-aged, awkward, good-natured, 
apple-faced man, a lover of anybody's, and least of all, of mine ! 
"\Vhy he's forty ! Oh, it's shocking — it's horrible ! I won't hear any 
thing so dreadful of any one I love so much. 

Fred. You admit that you love liim ? 

Eve. Oh, j'es, I love him — but I don't Zouehim. (Nestling against 
FiiED.^ Don't you understand the difference ? 

Fred. I don't like his calling you Eve. 

Eve. "Why you wouldn't have him — oh, you never coidd want Ted 
Athelney to call me Miss Van Brugh? 

Fred. Then he kisses you. (Rises. 

Eve. Of course be does, dear. Kisses me? So does mamma ! 

Fred. No doubt, but there's some difference. 

Eve. A difference ! Y>'liat difference? 

Fied. This, if no other : that J. object to the one, and don't object 
to the other. ( Turns up stage, R. 

Eve. ( Disappointed. ) Then I'm not to ki-^s Ted Athelney any 
more. 



io 



Enter Ted Athelnet, s.e.i?. 



Ted. (B. ) Well, Eve, old lady, here I am, back again — well and 
hearty. 

Eve. (c, jumps up, waves him hack.) Ted, stand back ; I'm not 
to kiss yon. 

'J'ecl. Eh? Why not? 

Hue. It's wrong. Isn't it ? ( To Fred. ) 

Fred, (Up stage i,.c.^ I'm sorry you think it necessai-y to ask 
the question. 

Eue. There, Ted. Only think of the wrong we've been doing for 
years and years, and never knew it ! 

I'ed. But who told you it wan wrong. Not coiiscience, I'll be 
sworn. 

Eve. No ; that's the worst of it, There's something wrong with 
my conscience ; it doesn't seem to be np to its v/ork. From some 
motive — mistaken politeness, perhaps — it declines to assert itself. 
Awful, isn't it? (Sits in easy chair, c. 

Ted. Come, something's happened during my absense in town ; 
lell me M'hat it is. ( Talks to Iter from (he back of the table. 

Eve. Something of a tremendous nature has happened ! Ted 
Athelney, I mustn't call you Ted Athelney any longer ! 

Ted. What? 

Eve. And I mustn't let you kiss me, because I'm going to be mar- 
ried. 

Ted. (Starting.) Married! 

Eve. Yes. 

Ted. To — ? ( ladicating Frtldkrick. 

Eve. Yes. (Re is much agitated.) Won't you tell me that you 
are glad to hear it? 

Ted. (After a pause, conies doicn o?i her i,.) Yes, Eve, I'm glad 
of anything that makes you happy. It has come upon me very sud- 
denly. I never thought of your getting married. (Site rises.) I 
was a great ass, for it must have come about some time or otlier, and 
M'hy not now? and it must have been to some fellow, and why not 
FredSmailey? God bless yon, Ev.^. (lie takes both her Iiands, is 
about to kiss her — cliecks himself, and kisses her hand.) I must get it 
well into my mind before I can talk about it, and mine is a mind 
that takes a good deal of getting at. I hope and believe tliat yoii 
wilt be happ3'. ( Ilespectf ally and distanthj. She retires. ) Fred, old 
man — 

(Fred copies doicn 1j. Goes to Fred ; takes his hand and tries 
to speak, but in vain. They sit on the ottoman, l.c. 

Elder Mrs. Van Brogh, s.e.r. 

Mrs. V. B. Well, I've done for myself now; (EvEco)?ies dotouR.c. ) 
go away from me ; I'm a pariah, an outcast ; don't, for goodness' 
sixke, be seen talking with me. 



CHAEITT. • 11 

Eve. (u-c.) "Why, inamuia, clear, Vvliat ou earth have you been 
doiug ? 

ilfcs. V. B. Doing? Listen autl shudder! I've put a Disseuter 
iuto my ahiishouses ! ( Sils l. of )!.o. iaUc. 

Fred. ( Bisiugfrom oUonian, comes doion. ) ADisseuter? 

Mrs. V. B A r^al live Dissenter. Isn't it awful ! 

Fred. No, awful is too stroug a term ; but I think it was a very, 
very sad mistake. ( Siis k. of i,. table. Ted remains on ihe oiloman. 

Mrs. V. B. A thousand thanks for your toleration — I shall never 
forget it. The viUage is outraged— they liave stood my eccentricities 
long enough. It was bad enough when I put a Ilom'au Cathohc in, 
but in consideration of the almshouses being my own they were good 
enough to swallow the Iloman Catholic. Then came a Jew — well, 
the village was merciful, and with a few wry faces they swallowed 
even the Jew. But ii Dissenter ! The line m^tsi be drawn somewhere 
and High and Low Church are agreed that it must be drawn at 
Dissenters. The churchwardens look the other way when I pass. 
The clerk's religious zeal causes him to turn into the "Red Cow," 
rather than touch his hat to me, and even the dirty little boys run 
after me, shouting "No Popery" at the top of their voices, though 
I'm sure I don't see how it a[)25iies. 

Fred. J3ut, my dear Mrs. Van Brugh, you mean well I'm sure — 
but a Jew, a Catholic, and a Dissenter ! — is there no such thing as a 
starving Churchman to be found? ( Rises. 

3Irs. V. B. There are but too many starving men of all denom- 
inations, but while I'm hunting out the Churchman, the Jew, the 
Catholic and the Dissenter will jDerish, and that would never do, 
would it? ( Crosses to u 

Fred, (c.) That is the Christianity cf impulse. I would feed 
him that belonged to my own church, and if he did not belong to it, 
I would not feed him at all. 

3Irs. V. B. (Sits K. of l. t(d)Ie ; Feed prds on gloves.) That is 
the Christianity of Keligious Politics. As to these poor people, they 
will shake down and agree very well in time. Nothing is so condu- 
cive to toleration as the knowledge that one's bread depends upon it. 
It applies to all conditions of life, from almshoiises to happy families. 
(Fked takes Itis hal from c. iidjie.) AVhere are you going? 

Fve. (R.c. ) We are going down to the school to see the cakes and 
oranges and decorations — (Going n. 

Fred. ( Serioitsly. ) And to impress \ipou the children the dan- 
ger of introducing inharmonious elements into iJieir little almshouses. 
« ( Tidccs Eve's ar^n and moves e. 

Mrs. V. B. (Following them. ) Well, I hope you'll be )»ore suc- 
cessful with them than with me. Their case is mirch more critical 
than mine, I assure you. ( E.teunl Eve and Fred s.e.e. Mes. Van 
Beugh sees Edwaed, who is silting at back on ottoman loith his head 
between his liands. ) Why, who's this? Edward Athelney, returned 
at last to his disconsolate village? (lie rises and comes down Ij.J 



l2 CHAEITI", 

(r ) iiwiiy, sir — don't come uear luc— you're a reprobate — you've been 
iu Louilon teu days aud nobody to look after you. Give au accouut 
of yiiivsi'lf. Its awful to think of the villainy a tliorongbly badly 
disposed young man can get through in ten days in London, if I'm 
not there to look after liini — come, sir, all your crimes, please, in al- 
phabetical order— now then, A — Arson. Any arson? Mo? Quite 
suro? (Sits L.c, and slmlcfs her I,ead.) Come now, that's some- 
thing — then we go to Biuglary ? Bigamy? No Bigamy? (Ted 
siuikss Jiis head.) Come, it's not as bad as I thought. Why, — (see- 
ing that lie looks verij xcrelched) — -what on caith is the matter — why, 
iny poor Ted — what is distressing you? I never saw you look so 
wi'elched in my life ! 

Ti-d. (l.c.) Oil I Jlr.i. Yan Brugh, I'm awf ally uuha2:>I)y ! 
Mrs. Y. B. My poor old frieud— tell me id I about it. ( Sits c. 

Ted. It's soon "told— Mrs. Van Brugh, you have a daughter, who's 
the best and loveliest girl I ever saw in my life. 
Jifrs. V. B. (Pause. ) My poor Edward ! 
Ted. Did— did you know that I — that 1 was like this? 
Mrs. V. B. No'! no! no! 

Ted. N(U' I, it came on me like a thunderclap — my love for that 
little girl has grown as imperceptibly as my age has grown — I ve 
taken no note of either till now — when I rub my eyes aud find that 
I love her dearly, aud that I'm eight-aud-thirty ! 

Mrs, V. B. But, surely you know — yo;i must have heard — 
Ted. Yes, yes, I've just heard— Fred Smailey's a lucky fellow, and 
he deserves his luck. 

3Ls. V. B. Perhaps. I don't know. I don't like Fred Smailey. 
Ted. (Amazed.) You don't like Smailey ? 

Mrs. V. B. No, I don't, and I'm afraid I show it. My dear old 
friend, it would have made me very happy to have seen you married 
to Eve, but he was first in the field, and she loves him. At first 1 
wouldn't hear of it — but she fell ill — might have died^well I'm her 
mother, aud I love her, and I gave in. I know nothing agaiust bim. 
Ted. Oh, Fred Smailey's a good fellow, a thorough good fellow. 
You do him au injustice, indeed you do ; I never knew a man with 
such a sense of gratitude— it's perfectly astonishing. Remember how 
he gave me that splendid colly, when I pulled him out of the ice, 
last February, aud how in return for ray lending him money to pay 
his college debts, he got his father to let me shoot over Eushout — uo 
— uo — if Fred Smailey has a fault, he's too good for this world. 

( Goes up. 
Mrs. V. B. Is he? — at all events he's too solemn.' 

(Cross to, and sits jj.c. 
Ted. (Looks off s.e.e. ) Here's the dad coming — he mustn't see 
me like this. Good-by, Mrs. Van Brugh. You won't speak of this 
to any one, I know — not that I've reason to be ashamed of it, but it'll 
pain Eve and Fred too. I'll bear up, never fear, aud Eve shall never 
know — after all, her happiness is the great end, aud, so that it's 



CHAEITT. 13 

brought about, what matter whether Fred or I do it, so tha^ it'.s done-j 
It's Fied's job, uot mine — better hick for him, worse hick for me. 

(Exit iltrourjh consevvalory c. 
3ri:^. V. B. Poor fellow ! There goes a heart of gold with a head 
of cottou-wool ! Oh, Eve, Eve, my dear, I'm very sad for yoxx ! Is it 
Lead or heart makes the best hnsbaud ? Better that babj'-hearted 
simpleton than the sharpest Smailey that ever stepped ! "^I'ra very 
unjust. Heaven knows that I, of all women in this world, should be 
slow to judge. But my dislike to that man, to his family, to every- 
thing that relates to him, is intuitive. Howevei-, the iuischief, if 
mischief there be, is dojie ; I'll maJco the best of it. ( SUs c. 

Elder Dr.. ATHcr.xKY, rrri/ Intrricdli;, s.f.. r. 

Dr. A. My dear Mis. Van Brugh, I come without a moment's 
loss of time, to thauk you in my late curate Twemlow's name for your 
great kindness in jn-esenting him to the Crabthorpe living. He has 
a wife and four children, and is nearly mad with joy and gratitude. 
I've brought you his letter. 

Mrs. T'i jB. I won't read it, doctor. I can't bear gratitude ; it 
makes my eyes red. Take it away. I am only too glad to have 
helped a struggling and deserving man. Now, I'm verj' glad you've 
come, because I want to consult you on a business matter of some 
importance. Be seated. Doctor. ( He .'iils -r.c. 

Dr. A, My dear Mrs. Van Brugh, I have been the intellectual 
head of this village for fifty-three years, and nobody ever j'et paid me 
the compliment of consulting me on a matter of business. 

Mrs, V. B. (c. ) Then I've no doubt I'm going to hit upon a 
neglected mine of commercial sagacity ! 

Dr. A. (e.c.) It's very possible. I was second wrangler of my 
year. 

Mrs. V. B. I told you last night of Eve's engagement. "Well, old 
Mr. Smailey has sent me a note to say that he will call on me to-mor- 
row week to talk over the settlenient I propose to make on the occr.- 
sion- of my darling's marriage with his son. Now, doctor, look as 
wise as you can, and tell me what I ought to do. 

Dr. A. "Well, in such a case I should be very worldlj*. I think, 
my dear, I should prepare a nice little luncheon, with a bottle of that 
Amontillado, and then, having got him quietly and cosily tele-a-iele, 
I should ask him what he proposes to do. 

Mrs. V. B. "Very good indeed, doctor. Upon my word, for a 
colonial bishop-elect, that's not bad. Bat, uufortnatelj', I've already 
ascertained that ho proposes to do nothing. All his money is tied 
up. 

Dr. A. Oh, is it indeed? Bless me ! Tied up, is it? .\nd may 
1 ask, what do you understand by that expression ? 

Mrs. V. B. "Well, in round terms, it's his, but ho mustn't spend 
i;. Do you understand ? 



14 CHABirr. 

J)i: A . Ob, yes. "When I ^Yas a boy my uncle gave me a guinea 
ou tbose terras. 

Mrs. V. B. Now come, doctor dear, tbe young people look to me, 
and, wben one is looked to, one sbould be equal to tbe emergency. 
Wbat would you advise me to do ? 

Dv. A. Your property is not, I suppose, tied up ? 

Mrs. V\ B. No, it is quite unfettered, and consists principally of 
long leasebolds and funded property, left me by my godfatber, and a 
small sum of money acquiretLby Captain Yan ErugU ou bis first 
marriage. 

Dr. A. His first marriage! Bless me, I never knew be "had been 
married before. 

j)/j-s. V. B. Yes, fmucJi agUated) a most xmbappy matcb. Sbe — 
slie left bim under discreditable circumstances — went to Australia — 
resumed ber maiden name, and, under tbat name, died in Mel- 
bourne. 

Dr. A. And wben did tbis uubappy lady die ? 

J//-.9. V. B. (SlilL aijitated.) Ob ! j'ears ago — Tt,"s a terrible storj'. 
I don't like to tbink of it — I can't bear to talk of it. 

Dr. A. (Aside.) "Wbat a blundering old savage I am ! If tbere 
is a pitfall open, ten to one I tumble into it! (Alotid.) I bave 
always understood tbat wbere marri;ige settlements of any considera- 
tion ai'e conceruod, it is customary to employ a solicitor. I can't 
quote my antbority, but, I feel sure tbat I am rigbt. 

3Irs. V. B. Old Iilr. Smailey is an executor under Captain Yau 
Brugb's will, and his solicitor lias always acted for me. 

Dr. A. His solicitor ! wbat, tbat queer little red-faced fellow wbo 
accompanies bim everywbere ? 

Mrs. V. B. No. Ha ! ba ! lia ! I suppose Mr. Fitz Partington 
is a junior partner, or bead cl.erk, or sometbiug of tbe kind — at all 
events, bis name doesn't appear in tbe firm. 

(Rises, crosses and sits l. 

Dr. A. (Rises.) "Well, leave it to me, Mrs. Van Brugb, and I'll 
write to my brotber, tbe Yice-Cbancellor, wbo will tell us wbat to do. 
Now I'm off. (Going. Koise loilhout tx.) Wby — wbat's tbis? 
Bless me, Mrs. Yan Brugb, wbat is tbe cause of tbis commotion ? 

(Noise continued witJiout, as of people struggling loitli, a wo'inan. 
loJiO rudely expostuhdes loilli them. 

Mrs. V. B. Wby, what in tbe world is the matter? 

J'Jider Two Footmen, Geoom and Butler loilh Buth Tredgett in 
custodjj, s.E.it. She is wild-looking and dishevelled, as if she hud 
been struggling violently. 

Groom. "We've got ber, ma'am. Don't be afraid. (To Ruth, j 
Stand quiet, you jade, will yer ? Woa, tbere ! "We've got ber, sir, 
but we've bad a desperate bard job to do it. 

(Ruth stands e.g., surrounded by Footmen, tfcc. 

Dr. A. (0.) "Wbat has beeu done ? 



CHARITY. 15 

Groom. She's kuocked two teeth cleau out of my head, sir, and 
give notice to quit to a dozeu more. 

Dr. A. We will hear your grievance jn-esently. "What lia.s this 
woman done that she is brought here ? 

All. Done, sir, why — 

But. ( With, dlgniUiio ihe others.) If you please ! (To Mes. Van 
Bkugh l.) Ma'am, Edwards found this here woman creepiu' out of 
mv pantry, ma'am, on all fours. 

'Dr. A. On what? 

Bid. On her hands and knees, like a quadruped, sir. 

Dr. A. Have you searched her? 

Bid. (Shocked. ) No, sir, I have not searched her. 

Dr, A. Well, well, I mean has she been searched ? 

Bat. (With dign'dy.) I put my hand in her pocket, sir, and I 
looked under her shawl. 

Dr. A. Well, you didn't search her, but you put your hand in her 
l^ocket, and yoi; looked under her shawl. What did you find there? 

Bat. A decanter of sherry, sir. ( Producing it. 

Dr. A. ( To Mes. V. B. ) Your sherry, Mrs. Van Burgh? 

But. Our sherry, Dr. Athelney. 

Dr. A. Well, yovi hear what this man says ; did you take tliis 
wine? 

Bulk. Av, I took it, sure enough. 

Dr. A. Why did you take it? 

Butli. Why, to drink, of course. Why siJiould I take it? 

Dr. A. You sliouldn't take it. 

Ruth, Don't you never take wine ? 

Dr. A. Not other peof^le's wine — except, of course, witli their per- 
mission. 

Bidli. Maybe you've got a cellar of your own. 

Dr. A. Maybe I have. 

Buth. Well, maybe 1 liaven't. That's my answer. 

Dr. A. Now, what are we to do with her? 

Mrs. V. B. Leave her to me. Dr. Atlielney, please remain litre 
with me. ( The Doctor retires.) Every one else, except the woman, 
leave the room. ( Cross to c. 

But. (e.) She's a desperate character, ma'am; it took six of us, 
including me, to bring her here. 

Mrs. V. B. (c. ) Never mind. Dr. Athelney and I M'ill see her 
alone. Take your kands from her and go. 

But. Hadn't we better keep within hearing ? If help was wanted — 

3Irs. V. B. No lielp will be wanted. I am in earnest. Go. 
Shut the door. 

( Tlie Servants rdudiDitUj depart s.e.e. De. Athelney coiiics- 
doion and sits i,. 

Ruth. (E.c.) You're a cool hand, missis ; ain't you afeard on me 

Mrs. V. B. (c. ) Not at all. Why should I be afraid of you ? I 
mean you uo harm. 



16 CHARIXy. 

Buih. "Who's he ? 

Mi-s V. B. Dr. Atheluej'. n. clerymau auil a magistrate. 
Buih. Beak, is he? Well, let him make out the committal. 
Where's it to be? Sessious? 

Mis. V. B. We have uo Avish to prosecute you. We wish to help 
yoi; to arrive at a sense of right aiul wrong. 

Bnlli. Can't it be done w ithout a parson ? I dunno much good o' 
parsons. I'd rather it was done without a parson. 

(Mrs. Van B. goes up, somewhat shocked. 

Br. A. (Kindly.) Dou't think of mo as a clergyman, if that 
calling is distasteful to you. Perhaps some day we may succeed in 
overcoming your prejudice. In the mean time, think of me only as 
a harmless old gentleman, who is willing and able to help you to earn 
your living resi)ectably, if you desire to do so, 

Butli. (Cross over to Dn. A.) Ab, I've come across the likes o' 
you afore now. Three weeks agone comes a parson, as it might be 
yon. (c. ) "I've come to help you, poor fallen ereetur," says he ; 
"I've come to tell you blessed truths, poor miserable outcast," says 
he. (Mrs. VanB. comes doion Ji.) "Read that, wretched lost sheep," 
says he. "I'll call again in a month and see how yon feel," says he. 
A month ! Heugh ! When I was bad with fever the doctor come 
everj' day. Jle never come no move. There's ladies come odd times. 
I call to mind one — come in a carriage site did. Same story — poor, 
miserable, lost one — wretched abandoned fellow-creetur, and that. 
She called me a brand from the bumin', and wanted to stretch out a 
hand to save me, sJie did. Well, she stretched it out, and I thought 
she meant it (for I was greeu then), and, fool-like, I took it, and 
kissed it. She screeched as though I'd bit her ! 

Mrs. V. B. Will you take JHf/ hand? 

BidJi, (Astonished.) Do j'ou know w-hat I am ? 

2lrs. V. B. Yes ; I know well what you are. You are a woman 
v,ho Avants help, and I a Avomau Avho will help j-ou. 

( Talcing her hand. 

Ruth. (Much moved. ) Thankee, missis ! yon've spoke fair to me. 
I've had uo one speak like that to me for many a long year. Thankee, 
missis. (Struggling icith tears.) Don't mind me. (Throws her 
apron over her face and sobs. ) They loill come odd times ! 

Mrs. V. B. Will you t6ll me your name? 

Rath. Euth Tredgett. I come from Cambridge. 

Dr. A. Bora there ? 

Bnili,. I dunno as I Avas born there, but I come from there. 

Dr. A. What are you? 

Jtiilli. I s'pose I'm a thief. I s'pose I'm AA'hat gentlefolk thinks is 
wus lliiui a thief. God help me ! I s'^jose I'm as bad as I can be. 

( Weejying. 

31rs. V. B. Are your parents alive ? 

Bu(h. No, I never had uo father — my mother Avas such as me. 
See here, lady. Wot's to become of a gal Avhose mother Avas such as 
me ? Jlother ! AV'liv, I could swear aforo I could walk ! 



CHAijirr. 17 

Dr. A. But were j'ou not brought up to any calling ? 

Ruth. Yes, sir, I were ; I were brought up to be a thief. Every 
soul as I kuowed was a thief, aud the best thief was the best thought 
ou. JIaybe a kid not loug born ought to have kuowed better. I 
duuuo, I must ha' beeu born bad, for it seemed right ouough to me. 
■'"Well, it was i?i prisou aud out o' prison — three mouths here and six 
;>ionths there— till I was sixteen. 1 sometimes thinks as if they'd bin 
half as ready to show me how to go right ms (hey was to punish me 
for goin' wrong, I might have took the right turniu' aud stuck to it 
afore this. At sixteen I got seven year for shopliftin', aud was sent 
out to Port Philip. I soon got a ticket and tried service aud needle- 
work, but no one wouldn't have me ; aud I got sick and tired of it all, 
and began to thiuk o' putting a end to it, when I met a smooth- 
spokeu chap — a gentleman, if you please — as wanted to save me from 
the danger afore me. Well, what od-ls? He was a psalm-singing 
villain, and he soon left \ne. No need to tell the rest — to such as 
you it cau't bo told. I'm 'most as bad as I can be — as bad as I can 
be! 

Mrs. V. B. I think not ; I think not. "What do you say, Doctor? 

Dr. A. ( Slriiggling willi Ills tears. ) Say, ma'am? I say that )'ou, 
Ruth Tredgett, have been a most discreditable person, and you ought 
to be heartily ashamed of yourself, lluth Tredgett ; and as a clerg)'- 
man of the Church of England I feel bound to tell you that — that 
your life has been — has been what God knows it couldn't well have 
helped being under the circumstauces. 

3Irs. V. B. Euth Tredgett, I am very, very sorry for you. If 
you are willing to leave this i;uhappy course of life I will provide 
j-ou with the means of earning your living honestly. 

liuUi. Honestly ! Wlij', lady, I'm too fur gone for that ! 

Mrs. V. B. I hope not. I have assisted many, very many such 
women as yourself, aud I have seldom found my efforts M-asted. 

Ruth. i3ut you— a lady, high-born, high-bred, beautiful, rich, 
good — (In amazenieiit. 

J/iS. V. B. Hush. (Rises.) No matter what I am. (With 
emotiov.) AVho sball say what the very best of us might not have 
been but for the accident of education aud good example"? Tell me, 
Ruth Tredgett, will you accept my offer ? 

Rtdh. (Kneels at Iter feet and looks itp into her face.) I will. 



, Ruth, c. ^ 



Tableau. 

end of act i. 



18 



ACT II. 

Scene. — Chamber in third grooves. Centre Door. Interior haclcvKj in 
jourih grooves. Doors s.e.e. and h. 

Enter ]Me. Smailey, followed by Servant, c. from l. 

Jlr. S. (Very gently.) Will j'oii have the goodness to tell Mrs. 
Van Brugli that Mr. Smailey is here to see her, by appointment? 
JServ. (L.) Mr. Smailey, sir? Yes, sir. ( Going l. 

Enter LIe. Fitz Paktington, c. froin l. 

Fitz. {n.c:, stopping Servant.) J jid his solicitor. 

(Servant boivs and e.viis s.e.l. 

3Ir. S. (c, Kith mild sternness.) You have followed me again, 
sir ? 

I'^itz. Followed j^on again, sir ; according to contract. 

Mr. S. There is no contract between ns that entitles you to dog 
my footsteps as though you were hunting down a thief. 

Fitz. Hunting down a thief? Oh, yes. To enable me to assist 
j'oii in blighting the character of the best and loveliest woman that 
ever shed a light upon a private detective's thoruj' path, I am to 
have the free run of your house and papers ; I am to accompany you 
wherever you go, and you are to introduce me everywhere as j'our 
solicitor. 

Mr. S. Sir, you are not in the least like a solicitor. You are a 
ridiculously dressed person. You are like nothing in the world but 
what you are— a private detective. I desire to press hardly on no 
fellow-creature, but you are a spy ! that base and ntterably abject 
thing — a spy ! 

Filz. Mr. Smailey, when you complain that you find my society 
irksome, you have mj' profoundest sympathj' ; I find it so myself. 
When you revile my profession, ni}' sentiments vie entirely' iu accord, 
for I have the very poorest opinion of it. But when you imply that 
I don't look the character I undertake to represent, why titen, sir, 
you touch the private detective on the most sensitive part of his 
moral anatomy. I'm not a blameless character, but if I undertook to 
jjersonate the Archbishop of Canterbury I believe I should look the 
part, and my conversation would be found to be iu keeping with the 
character. 

3Ir. S. Pray, silence ; oh, pray, pray, silence. Y'ou shock mo in- 
expressibly. It is most painful to me to have to resort to your assist- 
ance. Bly son, my dear son, has engaged himself to marry Mrs. 
Van Brugh's daughter. I have lately had reason to believe that there 
is something discreditable iu Mrs. Van Brugh's marriage relations, 
though I do not know its precise nature. You tell me that you have 



cHAraTY. 19 

fi certniu clew to this flaw, though you decliuo to tell me what it is 
until your proofs are matureil. Well, sir, the Smaileys are a very 
old aud very famous family. Caius Smaileius came over with Julius 
CzEsar ; his descendants have borne an untarnished scutcheon for 
eighteen hundred years. In its iutereist I am bound to employ you, 
and upon your own most cxacliug terms, though I cannot think of 
your contemptible calling without a feeling of the most profound 
abhorrence. 

Filz. Sir, I am heartily ashamed of it. 

Mr. S. You are a professional impostor ; a hired lie. 

F'dk,. It is too true. I not only lie myself, but I am the cause of 
lying in others. 

Mr. S. For the lies that have to be told in accounting for you I 
hold you entirely responsible. I wish that to bo understood. I wash 
my hands of them altogether, and, when I think of the deep, delib- 
erate, and utterly indefensible falsehoods that I have had to utter on 
your behalf, I tremble for your future — I tremble for your future. 

Fitz. Unselfish man. 

3Tr. S. As for the preposterous terms you have dictated— - 

Fiiz. Terms ! I have iusured to myself the unbroken enjoyment 
of your desirable society for six weeks, and believe me, when I say 
that if I had been acquainted with the inexpressible charms of the 
most fascinating woman that ever shed a light upon the private de- 
tective's thorny path, I wouldn't have undertaken the job, no, not 
even for a lifetime of your society ! 

Elder JIrs. Yan Beugh, s.e.i.. 

3Irs. V. B. (l.c.) Good morning, Mr. Sraailey. I am soiTy to 
have kept you waiting. (Aside.) That absurd little man with him 
again. (Aloud.) Good morning, Mr. 

FUz. Fitz Partington. 

Mrs. V. B. Fitz Partington, of course. 

Fdz. (Aside.) She might remember 7»i// name. I can't conceive 
any circumstances under which I could forget hers ! 

Mr. S. Mr. Fitz Partington is entirely in my confidence. I 
brought him, because I believed that his familiarity with legal forms 
might assist us iu our interveiw. You can si:)eak without reserve be- 
fore Mr. Fitz Partington. (Aside to Fitz. ) A lie, sir! Another 
lie, from first to last ! 

Mrs. V. B. I suppose the facts will come before Mr. Fitz Parting- 
ton when they are decided on. The steps by which they are arrived 
at will only bore him. I'm sure Mr. Partington won't be angry with 
me, when I ask him to amuse hnn.self in the next room until prelim- 
inaries are arranged. (Points off s.e.e. 

Filz. Mrs. Van Brugh, I have made it a part of my moral code to 
step without hesitation into any apartment yoi; may think fit to indi- 
cate. ( Exit n.E.s. 



20 CHABITT. 



Mrs. V. B. (L.C.) Now, Mr. Smailej-, about these settlemeuts. 
I will lell you at ouce what I propose to do. My income is, as you 
Iniow, a very large oue — much larger thau any one would suppose 
who judges from the quietness of my mode of life. I am an odd 
woman, and I spend my money in my own waj'. I have A'ery many 
claims upon it, and, although I wish to deal handsomely with my 
darling Eve, I must not disappoint those who have counted upon me 
for some years past. To come to the point, I propose to settle my 
Buckinghamshire farm upon her, on the usual terms of a marriage 
settlement. I don't know the technical expression— but on the usual 
terms. 

Mv. S. (R.c.) The Buckinghamshire farm, yes. Thank j'ou. I 
forget whether that is the leasehold or the freehold farm, for you 
have two. 

Mrs. V. U. You miistn't ask me. Your solicitor knows. It's 
worth £500 a year, and that, I suppose is the main point. 

Mr. S. Not altogether ; the difference in value may be prodigious. 
Have 3'ou a copy of the will ? 

Mrs. V. B. No. I never saw the will, 

ilfr. S. Never saw the will ? I think I have a copy of it at home 
— with your permission, I will go and fetch it, and the matter can bo 
decided at once. 

Mrfi. V. B. Do, by all means. I only know that my propert}-^ is 
all my own, and tliat I can do what I like with it ; and I assure you, 
Mr. Smailey, I avail myself of the privilege. 

Mr. S. You do indeed. And that reminds me, Mrs. Van Brugh, 
that I am anxious to speak to you on another topic— a topic of a 
singularly painful character. I will endeavor, Mrs. Van Brugh, to 
approach it as delicately as possible. 

Mrs. V. B. Indeed! (Alarmed.) l''ou rouse my curiosity Mr. 
Smailej". Does it — does it refer in any way to myself? 
Mr. S. Directly to yourself. 

Mrs. V. B. ( Much alarmed. ) May I ask in what way ? 
Mr. 8. As I said before, it is a most difficult subject to approach, 
and I would willingly spare you. Give me a moment to think how I 
can best put it to you. 

Mrs. V. B. Pray have no hesitation in telling me what it is. 
C With half-disguislied emotion.) Does it — does it refer in any waj' to 
my — to my past life, ior instance ? ( With affected clieeifidness. 

Mr. S. It does refer to incidents in your past life. To many in- 
cidents in general, and to one incident in particular. 

Mrs. V. B. For Heaven's sake, sir, be explicit. Speak out, I 

implore j'ou. ( With suppj-essed agitation. 

Mr. S. You seem strangely agitated, Mrs. Van Brugh. 

Mrs. V. B. No, no ; I am ill and nervous to-day. Your manner 

is rather alarming. (With off eded cheerfulness.) You know I'm a 

very bad hand at guessing riddles, ISli: Smailey, Come, what is it ? 



CHAKITT. 21 

I give it up. (He hesilaies.) Why have you any hesitation iu tell- 
ing me ? 

Mr. S. Because it involves a particularly delicate moi-al point. 
(She is much agitated. ) God bless me, you seem very much alarmed. 

Mvft. V. B. ( With dderminaiion. ) Mr. Smailej-, once and for all, 
I insist upon knowing what it is. 

Mr. S. Well, then, to be quite plain with j'ou, it is currently re- 
ported in the village that you have taken a miserable woman from the 
streets and established her in the character of a respectable work- 
woman within a hundred j'ards of this spot. fSlEs. Van Beugh, 
wliose agitation ami alarm have been intense, is greatly relieved. ) 
Moreover, I have been informed that you have, for some j'ears past, 
been in the habit of searching out women of bad character who pro- 
fess penitence, with the view of enabling them to earn their living in 
the society of blameless Christians. 

Mrs. V. B. I have. 

Mr. 8. I tell yoti at once that I am loath to believe this thing. 

Mrs. V. B. (With indignant surprise.) Why are you loath to 
believe this thing ? 

Mr. S. Why? (Rises.) Because its audacity, its want of prin- 
ciple, and, above all, its unspeakable indelicacy, shock me beyond 
the power of expression. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Smailey, is it possible that you are speaking de- 
liberately ! Think of any blameless woman wliora you love and 
honor, and who is loved and honored of all. Think of the shivering 
outcast whose presence is contamination, whose touch is horror un- 
speakable, whose very existance is an unholy stain on God's earth. 
Woman— loved, honored, courted by all. Woman — shunned, loathed, 
and unutterably despised, but still — Woman. I do not plead for 
those whose advantages of example and education render their fall 
ten thousand times more culpable Let cAhers speak for such as they. 
( With a broken voice.) It may be that something is to be said, even 
for them. I plead for those who have had the world against them 
from the first — who with blunted weapons and untutored hands have 
fought society single-handed, and fallen in the unequal fight. God 
help them ! 

Mr. S. Mrs. Van Brugh, I have no desire to press hardly on any 
fellow-creature, but society, the grand arbiter in these matters, has 
decided that a woman who has once forfeited her moral position 
shall never regain it. 

Mrs. V. B. Even though her repeniauce be sincere and beyond 
doubt? 

Mr. S. Even so. 

Mi'S. V. B. Even though she fell unprotected, unadvised, perish- 
ing with want and chilled with despair? 

Mr. S, Even so. For such a woman there is no excuse — for such 
a woman there is no pardon. 

nils. V. B. You mean no pardon on earth ? 



22 CHARITY. 

Mr. S. Of course I mean uo pardon on earth. What can I have 
to do with pardon elsewhere ? 

3Irs. V. B. Nothing, Mr. Smailey, -when 3'on have procured the 
will, I shall be ready to see you ; but before j'ou go let me tell you 
that I am inexpressibly fihocked and pained at the terrible theory 
you have advanced. ( He endeavors to speak. ) Oh, imderstand nie, 
I do not charge you with exceptional heartlessness. You represent 
the opinions of society, and society is fortunate in its mouth-piece. 
Heaven teaches that there is a imrdon for ever}' penitent. Earth 
teaches that there is one sin for Avhich there is uo pardon — when the 
sinner is a woman ! 

EuTH Jias entered c. She is quietly and decently dressed, and carries a 
parcel of needlework in her hand. 

Mr. S. (Aside. ) Mrs. Van Brugh, pray be quiet ; we are ob- 
served. 

Mrs. V. B. Bj' the subject of our conversation. 

(Ktit Mes. Van Brugh, s.e.l. 

Ridh. (c.) I beg pardon — I thought the lady was alone. 

( Ooing l. 

Mr. S. Stop, woman. (She turns and advances l.c. J Don't — 
don't approach me — we have nothing in common. Listen at a dis- 
tance. (Sits -R.C. ) Mrs. Van Brugh has thought proper to place 
you on a pedestal that levels you, socially, with rei^ectabie Christians. 
in so doing, I consider that she has insulted respectable Christians. 
She thinks proper to suffer you to enter my presence. In so doing, 
I consider that she has insulted me, I desire j'ou to luiderstand 
that when a woman of your stanp enters the presence of a Christian 
gentleman, she — 

Rath. ( Wlio has heen loojfing at him in loonder durinr/ this speech. J 
Smailey ! That's never you ! 

Mr. S. (Falls back in Ids chair.) Euth Tredgett ! 

( Whistles aside. 

Buih. Ay, Smailey, it's Euth Tredgett. 

Mr. S. ( Very confused.) I did not know whom I was speaking 
to. 

Bidh. But you knowed icliat you was speakin' to, Jonas Smailey. 
Go on. I'm kinder curous to hear what you've got to say abotit a 
woman o' my stamp. I'm kinder curous to hear wot Jonas Smailey's 
got to say about his own work. 

]\lr. S. We meet in a strange way after so mauj' years. 

Bulh. Yes ; we do meet in a strange way. Seems to me it's suthin' 
of a topsy-turvy way. But it's a topsy-turvy world, ain't it? 

Mr. S. (Recovering Idmself, loilJi hland dignity. ) I have no desire 
to press hardly on any fellow-creature — 

Ruth. (Quietly.) Come, that's kind, anyhow. 

Mr. S. Perhaps, after all, you were not entirely to blame. 

Ruih. Well, p'raps not. 



CHAEITY. 23 

Mr. S. Perliapa I myself was not altogether witliout reproach in 
the matter. But in my case allowance should, in common charity, 
be made for follies that arise from extreme youth and — and inexperi- 
ence. I was barely forty then. 

Bidh. And I was just sixteen. Well, I forgive you, along o' your 
youth, as I hope to be forgiven along o' my childhood. 

Mr. S. (Rises. ) The tone you adopt is in the worst possible 
tiiste. The misguided lady who has taken upon herself, most wick- 
edly, to foist you ni^on society, has committed a fraud, which — 

liidh. Stop lliere, Smailey ! You're getting on dangerous ground. 
Best leave that lady alone. She's a bit cliipped off heaven — she's 
good r/ght through. She's— she's — I'm slow at fiudin' words that 
mean goodness. M.y words run mostlj' the other way, wus luck. If 
I had to tell o' you, Smailej', they'd come handy and strong. I can't 
find words that mean her ! 

Mr. S. I have no wish to be hard on you, but it is a fraud, and — 

Ihdh. Fraud? Fraud's a bad word to come from yow, Smailey. 
I'd ha' thought you'd ha' fought shy o' that word, for tlie rest o' your 
days. 

Mr. S. ( Taken aback. ) I don't know what yon refer to. 

Jiuih. I'm referriu' to Martha Vane of Melbourne. What, yer 
recklect Martha Vane, do yer ? 

Mr. S. Martha Vane ! Yes, I remember Vane. Pooh ! There is 
nothing to connect me with that matter. 

BiUli. Nothing ? I've writin' of yours which is fourteen year, if 
it's a day. 

Mr. S. And do you mean to say that you would be guilty of such 
inhumanity — such devilish inhumanity (I use the word "devilish" 
in its religious sense) as to bring up an act of youthful folly — guilt if 
you will — against me now that I have achieved wealth, reputation, 
and social position ? 

Bidh. No, you're safe, Smailej'. Bring it up agin yer now ? Why, 
you may have repented, who knows ? You was a bad lot, sure enough, 
but that's twenty years agone, and you may ha' repented. 

J//'. 8. I have ; I'm an altered person — I — I — ^will make it well 
M'orth your while to give me up that writing you refer to. ■ I will pay 
you very handsomely for it. 

jBi(//(. Pay ! no ; I ain't on that lay. I'm square now. I'm a 
'spectable woman. I only takes money wot I earns. It comes slow, 
but it comes comfortable. 

Mr. S. Your sentiments do you credit. I confess I did not look 
for such delicacy of feeling in you ; it exalts one's idea of human na- 
ture. I am thankful for anything that exalts one's idea of human 
nature. Thanlc you, Tredgett. Give me these papers. 

Bidh. No ; I'm 'spectable, but I ain't a fool, I'll keep 'em, case I 
want 'em. 

Jifr. S. As you please. Remember, Tredgett, I am a person of 
influence here, and a county magistrate — 



24 CHARIXr. 

liuih. What, d'you sit at quarter sessions? 

Mr. S. Certainly. 

liuili. Aud sentence poor prigs ? 

Mr. S. Yes. WLiy do you ask ? 

Until. Nothing ; go on — it's all tops3"-turvy ! 

Mr. S. I shall be happy if I can serve you in any way, I shall 
always be glad to hear that you are doing well, and I feel certain that 
the admirable lady who has so Idudly taken you in hand will have uo 
reason to regret her charitj'. It is easy to fall, and hard to rise 
again. Heaven bless those who extend a helping hand. ( Retire up. ) 
I am very glad indeed that we have met. I've uo wish to press hardly 
on any fellow-creature. (JiJxit c, o^ l. 

Math. Jonas Smailey ! Smailej' here ! Things come about queerly. 
I seed him last at t'other end o' the world, aud to meet him here ! 
Who's that? 

(FiTZ Partington has entered unobserved s.is,.'r. , ontijoioe, and 
tapped her on Vie slioulder. 

Fitz. (E.c. ) Come here. ( Taking out note-book. ) Your name's 
Euth Tredgett? 

Jiutli. (L.c, surprised. ) Ay. 

Fllz. What are you ? 

llulh. A 'spectable woman. Wot are you ? 

Fitz. A detective. 

Jtath. ( Falling back horrified. ) Wot'sitfor? 

Fitz. Nothing. You ain't wanted, but your address is. 

liaih. I'm living at Barker's in the village. 

Fitz. Present occupation? 

liaUi. Needlewoman. 

Fitz. Late occupation ? 

RulJi. Tramp. There's uothin' agin me ? 

Fitz. Nothing against you, everything for you ; even tbis half- 
crown. 

Ruth. I don't like p'leece money. I never took none yet, I ain't 
a goiu' to begin now. I wish yer good day. I don't like p'leece 
monej'. ( Exit c. , off t,. 

Fitz. I'm not a policeman, I'm a private detective ; but we won't 
split hairs. (Pockets coin.) I thought Smailey was my man, now 
I'm sure of it. Ha ! ha ! Now, Smailey has a game. The question 
is, what is it? He says it's his scutcheon, but that is Walker, be- 
cause his father was a wig-maker. However, it's quite clear that, 
whatever his game may be, it is my duty to put that inestimable 
woman on her guard. 

Enter Mes. Vax Bjrugh, s.r.L. 

Mrs. V. J3. Has not Mr. Smailey returned? ( Sits t,.c. 

Fitz. No, ma'am, he not not. (He shoics traces of emotion. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Partington, is anythihg the matter ? 



CHAEITY. 25 

Fitz. (^E.c. ) Ma'aiu, yoii liave come upou me iu a moment of 
professional conscientiousness. Avail yourself of it, for such mo- 
ments are rare and fleeting, lie^vare of Smailey. 

Mrs. V. B. What in tl^o world do you mean ? 

Filz. I mean that he is endeavoring to prove that — that j'ou were 
not legally married to Captain Van Brngh. 

Mrs. V. B. (lutenselj/ aijikded. ) Mr. Fitz Partington, you can 
not be aware of the full import of your words. What can be Mr. 
Smailey 's motive for nialdng these preposterous inquiries? 

Filz. That's just what I want to get at. In a general way it's sure 
to be eomethiug dirty. Perhaps he thinks that the property you 
inherit from Captain Van Brugh isn't legally yours, and, therefore, 
can't be settled by you on your daughter. 

Mrs. V. B. But I inherited very little indeed from Captain Van 
Brugh. The bulk of my property was left me, by my godfather, 

Filz. Then I'm wrong. But does Smailey know "this ? 

Mrs. V. B. Kaov/ it ! Why, of course he knows it. He's my 
godfather's nephew, and next-of-kin. 

Filz. What ! His next-of-kin ? Next-of-kin is a fruitful expres- 
siou. I see a whole plantation of motives cropping out of "next-of- 
kin." Have you a copy of the will ? 

Mrs. V, B. No. But Mr. Smailey has — indeed he has gone to 
fetch it. 

F'itz. Can you tell me the terms of the legacy ? 

Mrs. V. B. No, not precisely. I have never seen the will. Jly 
solicitor has told me its purport in general terms. 

Fitz. Are you referred to in that will by your married or maiden 
name? 

Mrs. V. B. Oh, by my maiden name. 

Filz, You are sure of that ? 

Mrs. V. B. Quite sure. At least, I feel quite sure. I can't be 
absolutely certain, but — oh, yes ; I am sure of it. 

Filz. What was the date of the will ? 

Mrs. V. B. 1856. 

Filz. What was the j'ear of your marriage? 

Mrs. V. B. (After a pause. ) 1856. 

Fitz. My dear Mrs. Van Brugh. this is most important. The 
news of your marriage might or might not have reached the testator 
iu Australia. If there is any flaw in your marriage, and if you are 
described in that will as Captain Van Brugh's wife, every penny j'ou 
possess will revert to Smailey. Now, Smailey is a scoundrel. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Parliugtou, pray explain yourself. 

Filz. In the full conviction that what I am going to say will be 
treated as confidential, I icill explain myself. I'm after Smailey. 
Smailey will soon be wanted. 

Mrs. V. B. This is scarcely an explanation. 

Filz. Scarcely an explanation. Twenty years ago, when iu Aus- 
tralia, Smailey forged a burial-certificate to get some trust-funds into 



2G CHARITY. 

his possessiou. The job was given to our house to investigate, only 
six weeks ago. Two daj's after, who should come to lis for a detec- 
tive to inquire into j'our affairs but Sniailey, so we put the two jobs 
together, and I'm doing 'em both. 

3frs. V. B. But how is it that a gentleman in your profession — 

Filz. A gentleman ! Mrs. Van Brugh, for reasons that will go 
down with me to the tomb, I am humbly and hopelessly anxious to 
stand high in your good opiuiou. Appreciate my disinterestedness, 
when I voluntarily tell you that which will blight me in your estima- 
tion for ever. You think I'm an eminent solicitor. I ain't ; I'm the 
insignificant minion of a Private Inquiry Office. 

Mrs. V. J3. But you were introduced to me as a solicitor. 

Fitz. It is a tantalizing feature of my contemi^tible calling, that I 
am continually beiug introduced as somebody I should particularly 
like to be. In the course of the last twelve months, I've been a 
Spanish Hidalgo, a Colonel of Hussars, an Ashautee Nobleman, and 
a Bishop of the Greek Church. "What was the date of your marriage? 

Mrs. V. B. Some time in Februarv, '56. ( With Jiesitation. 

Fitz, Day? 

iMrs. V. B. The— the 30t]i. 

Filz. The 30th ? Try again. Never more than twenty-nine days 
in February — seldom that. 

Mrs. V. B. I forget the exact date. 

Filz. Where were j'ou married, and by whom ? 

Mrs, V. B. By — bj' — (uj'ler some hesitation) — sir, by your own 
admission you are a mere spy. How am I to know that j'ou are not 
asking these questions with a view to using them against me? 

Fitz. (Much hurt.) Ma'am, may you never know the depth of 
the wound you have inflicted. It will canker^ ma'am, but don't be 
alarmed, it shall not inconvenience you, for I will remove it from 
your sight. When we meet again, you will find me in the assumed 
character of a person who has not had his best feeliugs harrowed up 
for a considerable time. It will be a difficult assumption, ma'am, but 
I will do my best to sustain the fiction. (Exit s.e.e. 

Mrs. V. B. At last ! at last my punishment is at hand. And Eve 
— great heavens, what will become of her ? Eve — who loves and 
honors me — Eve, my child! I mustn't think of that. It will mad- 
den me. I shall want all my head for what is to come ! If news of 
this — marriage of mine (with a hitter laugh) had reached my god- 
father, he would have described me in his will as Cai^taiu Van 
Brugh's wife, and then I ana lost, and Eve is lost. Oh, why don't 
that man come. This suspense is terrible. At last ! He's here ! 

Fater E've and Feed xnlh De. Athelnet, c. fror)i l. 

Eve. Mr. Smailey has returned with the will. Frederick has been 
explaining to me the difference between freehold and leasehold, and 
you don't know how anxious I am to know which it is. 

Fred. Eve, Eve, this is very mercenary. 



Enter SiiAiT-EY, c. i'rom u 

Mr. S. Mrs. Van Brugh, I am most happy to tell you that it is 
everythiBg th.it could be wished. My dear Jlrs. Van Brugh, the 
Euckiughamshire farm is freehold. Here is the clause which refers 
to it : (Reads very deliberately.) After giving you Westland Park, 
the Blackfriars estate, and tlie two reversions, the testator goes on to 
say, "And I further will and bequeathe all tliat messuage known as 
Goldacre Farm, together with all out-houses, waj's, watercourses, 
trees, commonable rights, easements and appurtenances, and all the 
estate and rights of the said Itichard Goldacre in and to the same, 
;mto and to the use of the said Catherine Ellen, wife of Eichard Van 
Brugh, Esq., a captain in the Eoyal Navy, her heirs and sssigus for- 
ever." 

(Mrs. Van "B-rvoii fulls senseless into a chair, lier daughter bend- 
ing over tier. 

c. Smailet, c. Eve, . ^ 

^•^ -A 



END OP ACT n. 



ACT III. 

ScEKE. — Morrdng lioom in SiiAir-rA's House. Door at back; giving on 
to a preily garden. 

Frederick discovered sealed in easy chair c, sealing a leller. 

Fred. "Yoiir eternally attached Frederick." If there was any 
flaw in Mrs. Van Brugh's marriage, as my father seems to suspect— 
and his suspicions are coiToborated by her astonishing behavior on 
his reading her godfather's will— then Mrs. Van Brugh is penniless— 
and Eve is penniless too. Poor little lady I'm afraid I shall have 
to cry off. I'm sorry for the poor child, because I'm sure she is fond 
of me. (Rises, ioalksio and fro.) I'm sorry for myself, because I'm 
sure I'm fond of her. But when a man proposes to marry, he must 
not allow himself to be misled by his affections. As far as Eve is 
concerned I see no difficulty. She is a tender-hearted and sensitive 



28 CHARITr. 

little thing, heaven bless her, ami cau be easil}' .shaken oft'. But my 
poor old father ; how indignant he will be if I dare to suggest what 
he would consider a dishonorable course! (Sits 1j,) Why, if he 
thought me capable of breaking a solenm engagement for a mercenary 
motive, he'd disown me ! No, I must rest my excuse on a surer 
ground. I must touch his sense of family pride. I must remind him 
of the blight that would fall on our race, if I intermarried with a 
tainted family. (Rises.) A really good man does a deal of harm in 
the world. One has to stoop to so much dirty dissimulation before 
one can meet him ou equal terms. 

Enter Me. Sm-iiley, s.e.b. 

Mr. S. (u.c.) Frederick, I want to speak seriously 

Fred. (l. c. ) Father, I want to speak seriously 

Mr. S. Eh? 

Fred. I beg your pardon. 

Mr. S. I was about to say that I want to speak to you on a most 
serious and important matter. 

Fred. Dear me, that's very odd ! Do you know I was about to 
say the very same thing ! I am most anxious to speak to you ou a 
most serious and most important matter. Excuse me for one mo- 
ment, while I give this note to Eobins. ( Going z.. 

Mr. S. Whom are you writing to ? 

Fred. To my darling, of course ? ( Mdt s.'E.Ij. 

Mr. S. To his darling ! Poor lad ! He's a noble fellow ! No 
mercenary thought in connection with the girl has ever entered his 
head ! But he must never marry her. Everything points to the tact 
that Mrs. Van Brugh's marriage was illegal, and, if so, her daughter 
is portionless. Thank Heaven ! his sense of moral rectitude is so 
high that when he knows that her mother's conduct is open to sus- 
picion he may feel bound to dissociate himself from her. Ah, it is a 
pleasant and a goodly thing when a parent finds that the strict prin- 
ciples he has instilled into his offspring are bearing golden fruit on 
which they both may feed •! 

iie-ente' Frederick, s,e.l. 

Mr. 8. { A •-, I How shall I break it to him? 

Fred, -j ^«*««- f How shall I begin? (Aloud.) Now Fm at 
your disposal, sir. 

3Ir. S. Sit down, then. (They sit.) Frederick, my dear lad, 
this life of ours is made up of hopes frustrated, and cherished schemes 
brought to nothing. 

Fred, (i-.c.) Very true. A man who places himself under the 
sweet dominion of his conscience, must not count ou the fulfillment 
of even his most innocent intentions. 

Mr. S.' (B.C.) Unforeseen circumstances occasionally arise that 
render it almost criminal to carry out an otherwise laudablo purpose. 



cKARrrY. 29 

Fred. For instance : a discovery that a conteniplatetl act would, if 
carried out, briug dishonor on a long line of ancestors. 

3Ii: S. Or give an implied sanction to a discreditable, if not an 
immoral, relationship. Events might occur which would justify him 
in breaking the most solemn pledge. 

Fred. Justify him ! I can conceive a state of things under which 
he would be morally bound t j cast his most sacred obligations to the 
wind. 

Mr. S. Sly dear boy ! (He jumps up. 

Fred. My dear father ! (Rises. They shake hand.'!. 

Mr. S. Now Fred, this is what I was coming to, my boy. We 
are the last descendants of a very noble family. 

( They resume their seats. 

Fred. So I have often heard you sa}-. And that reminds me to 
mention a matter, upon which I have long desired to talk to j'ou 

Ifr. S. (hdernipUnrj.) lam free to admit that I am proud of my 
ancestry. 

Fred. Mj' dear father, the safe-keeping of their honor is my dear- 
est aim. And, talking of my ancestors' honor, reminds me 

Mr. S. (Interrupting. J if Caius Smaileins heard that one of his 
race was about to marry, for instance, into a tainted family, I believe 
the doughty old Roman would turn in his tumulus ! 

Fred. What you say about a tainted family is so true, that I ven- 
ture 

J/j". S. My dear Fred, it's no use beating about the bush. The 
girl you are engaged to— as good a girl ns ever lived, is (there is no 
use in disguising it) a member of a tainted family. (Feed turns 
Jrom Smailey ) It is therefore my duty to urge upon you, as the last 
of our line, the propriety, the necessity, of releasing Eve from her 
engagement. (Fkederick appears hurt and indiipund.) I know I 
am asking mueli, very mucfi, of you. I know how tenderly you love 
the girl ; but a flaw, my dear Fred, and you a Smailey ! My boy, it 
is impossible. 

Fred. (In affected indignaiinn. ) Am I to understand that you re- 
quire me to surrender my darling Eve. Never! With all possible 
resjiect for your authority — Never ! 

Mr. S, iiut, Fred, remember, my boy, remember, her mother has 
commitied n faux pas of some kind. 

Fred. It would certainly seem so ; but I have given my word, and 
it is my duty to keep it. 

Mr. S. What is duty to the living compared with duty to the 
dead. Think what your ancestors have done for you. And are we 
to neglect our duly to them, because they can do no more for us? 
Oh ! shame, shame ! 

Fred. (With apparent reluctance.) There is much truth in what 
you say, still 

Jlfr. 'S. To marry into such a family as hers, now that we know the 
truth, would be, ns it were, to countenance her guilt. 



30 CHAEITT. 

Fred. I cannot deny it. Nevertheless, I 

J/r. S, Would it be just — would it be moral to do this? 

Fred. No, no ; I see it now. 

Mr. S. Show yourself to be a man of moral courage. As for 
what the world will say, do the right thing, my boy, and let them say 
what they please. 

Fred. ( After a pause. ) Father, you are right. As a moral man 
I have no altei'native but to comply with your wish. At any cost it 
must be done — at any cost it shall be done ! 

Mr. S. Tiiat's right-, my di^ar, dear boy ; and j'ou shall find that 
you have lost little by your determination. And now that that's set- 
tled, let us enter into your atfairs. "What was it that you wanted to 
speak to me so seriously about just now ? 

Fred. I? Oh, dear no. 

3/)'. S. But surely, you said 

Fred, Oh, to be sure ! I — oh, it's not of the least consequence. 

Mr. 8. Something about poor little Eve, wasn't it? 

Fred. Yes ; about i:)oor little Eve. How little do we know what 
five minutes may bring forth ! I was actually going to consult you 
about fixing a day lor our wedding. ( Wiping /us eyes. 

Mr. S. Sly poor boy, you have behaved noblj'. You are a true 
Smailey. 

Fred. ( TakiiKj Ms lumd. ) I hope it is not presumptuous in me, 
but I sometimes think I am. 

Mr. S. I have wounded you deeply. Let me compensate you bj' 
telling you a more pleasant piece of news. I have discovered Fit74 
Partington's clew. 

Fred. Indeed ! I am rejoiced to hear it. 

Mr. S. Yes. Sirs. Van Brugh told me on Tuesday that she had 
never actually seen her godfather's will. So I felt it to be my duty 
to make an excuse for reading aloud tWat part of the will in which 
she IS particularly described. I did so, and she fainted. Now, my 
dear Fred, what does this point to ? 

Fred. I should say bigamy. 

Mr. S. Y'on would say bigamy, and so should I. I suggested this 
to Fitz Partington, and he seemed amazed at my i)euetratiou. "We 
laid our heads together, and, at his suggestion, I drew up this adver- 
tisement. 

C Hands 31S. advertisement, which he has taken from tahle-draioer. 

Fred, f Heads. ) £50 Beward. I'his sum mil he paid for a true 
ropy of the burial certificate of the first icife of the late Captain Van 
Brugh, B.N. She is knoion to have died (d Melbourne within ilielast 
eight years. Are you sure Fitz Partington is acting straightforwardly 
with you ? 

Mr. S. "Why should he do otherwise ? 

Fred. £50 is a large sum. 

Mr. S. A large sum? If I can only establish the fact that the 
first Mrs. Van Brugh died within the last eight years, every penny of 



CHAKITY. 31 

this so-called Mr.^. Vau Bragh's iucome — i;8,000 a year at least— re- 
verts to me, 

Fred. Then, deaj.- me 

Mr. S. Eh ? 

Fred. Poor Eve will lose her settlement ! 

Ilr. S. True ; quite true. Dear me, I never thought of that. 
Poor Eve ! 

Fred. Poor, poor Eve ! ( Retire up. 

Enter Ruth, s.e.l. 

Ridh. I've brought this note from my lady. ( Gives it to Me. S. 

Mr. S. Oh ! There maj' he au answer. Staj-. 

Jiuth. (Quietli/.) Yes ; I'll stay. 

Mr. S. (Beads note.) Oh! Sirs. Tan Bnigh writes to say that 
she wishes to see me this afternoon — alone. (Sits down io'write. 

Fred. Alone! Oh, then — then perliups I'd better witlidraw. 

( With affected emotion. Going i;. 

Piuih. Ay, perhajis you better had. 

( S lie follows lam toith her eyes us lie rjoes to Uic door. lie seems 
uneasy. Then exits s.e.l. 

Jh: S. (R.C.) There is the answer. ( Finishing note. 

Until. (L c.) Smailey ; wot's wrong about niv ladv? 

]\lr. S. Wrong? 

Ruth. Ay, there's ruin couiiii' to bur, and she hnows it. She's 
beeu queer-like these two days. I've come upon her cryia' odd times, 
and she's as white as death. Wot is it. Smailey ? 

Jfr. S. Probably a head-ache. I'm not a doctor. 

Ridh, 1 am. It's no head-ache — it's lieart-ache. It's ruin. 

J\[r. S. It is ruin ; to her wealth, and lier good name. 

Ridh. Ilcr good nanio? Why, you're never goiu' to meddle wi' 
ih(d. 

Mr. S. You are deceived in your mistret-.s. ( Rises, cmnesforicard.J 
I will tell you what she has been 

Ridh. Stop! I won't hear it, Smailey. I won't hear it. Let by- 
gones go bj'' ; no odds what she has beeu: think wot she is ; think 
wot you've been. As I've dealt fair v\-i" you, deal you fair wi' hei'. 
Take wot's yourn, but don't take no more. 

Mr. S. My rights and her good name aie ]>ound up together, I 
cannot claim the one without destroying the othi r. I oulj' want v/hat 
the law will give me, if I commence proceedings. 

Ridh. (Changing her lane.) If you commence proceedings, wot 
the law will give you is fourteen year, tal^e my word for it. I'\ .• 
spoke fair, aiul no good's come of it, so I'll sjjeak foul. Look her", 
Smailey, you've put a plot afoot to ruin my lady. Now my lady'-: 
got a dog, Smailey, and tliat dog won't slaud no plots. Do you hear 
that, Smailey. Slir hand or loot to harm that pure and spotless 
creature, and sure as my lady's dog has a set of fangs she'll fix them 
in vour throat. 



32 -CHAEITr. 

Mr. S. This is bartl. This is very hard. Eveu Mrs. Van Brngh 
would herself at ouce admit the justice of my claim. 

Enth. Well, wait till she does. 

Mr. S. (After a pause.) There is a good deal of sound common 
sense iu what you say, Tredgett. Still, if— ;y Sirs. Van Brugh should 
at any time make a statement of her oicn free icill, you will surely 
allow me to profit by it? 

Buih. AVotever my lady does of her own free will is angels' doiu', 
and is right accordiu'. 

Mr. S. (Aside.) Then I think I see my way. (Aloud.) Well, 
Kutli, on that iinderstaudiug you have my promise. 

liutli. Promise? Your promise? Smailej', don't you meddle 
with things you don't understand. Promises are ticklish goods iu 
your bauds. They're temptiii' things to break, and you was always 
easy tempted. No, no; don't you promise. I'll promise this time, 
Smailey. /'//promise. ( .E.vH Hvru, s.il.i,. 

Mr. S. (Walks about.) A sin, an early sin— a hIji committed 
tweut}' years ago, brought up against me now that I am an honest 
man, and a regular chui-ch-goer ! I am absolutely bound hand and 
foot by it — and to what end ? For tke protection of a woman who 
has connnitted Heaven kuows what offense against morality. If this 
crime were to be proved against me, what on earth would become of 
me ? For years I have endeavored to atone for )ny sin against society 
bjf treating wrong-doers brought be'fore me with the strictest and most 
Tiuflinching severity. Would society be grateful for this — would it 
eveu take heed of it? No; my atonement would go for nothing — 
absolutely nothing. Ah ! this is a merciless world, and one in which 
penitence is taken no account of. But have a care, Mrs. Van Bfugh, 
I'll bide my time. You shall yet see that a sin against morality is not 
to bo wiped out by a few years of sentimental self-denial ! 

Enter Eve and Fked, c, through lobuloio. 

Fred. Father, I met Mrs. Van Brugh and my darling on then- way 
here, so I turned back with them. 

Mr. S. Jly dear Eve. ( Kisses her 

Elder Mr.s. Van Bkugh, c.,from u-indow. 

Mr. S. i\Irs. Van Brugh, I am very pleased to see jou. Pray sit 
down. You look pale ; I am afraid you are tired. 

Mrs. V. B. No, I have not been very well lately. 

Eve. Mamma Mished to come alone, as she wants to speak to 
you on business, but I wouldn't hear of that, as she is really very far 
from well, so I've broiight her to you, BIr. Smailey ; aud now I'm 
going to take a turn iu the garden with Fred. ( Takes Ids arm. ) Dr. 
Athelney is waiting for us in the arbor. 

Fred. If the arbor were a consecrated arbor, and I had a license 
iu my pocket, wg might take a turn — iu the garden — that would sur- 
prise our dear friends. ( (jfoing vp c, arm in firm. 



CHAEITT. 33 

Eoe. What, without a weddiug-dress aud brides-maids, and bou- 
quets aud presents, aud a breakfast? M3' dear Fred, it woulihit be 
legal ! ( Exeunt Evic and Fked into the (jardeii c. 

Mrs. V. B. (Seeded c, after a, pause.) j\fr. Sinailey, I come to 
you in great distress. Ou Tuesday Lust, a cifcuinstaiice occurred, 
uo matter what it was, tliat iuduced nie to believe that there was a 
flaw— a vital flaw— in iny title to all 1 possess. LIr. Smailey, I 
haven't a shilling in the world. 

Mr. S. ( Seated R.c. ) A shilling ! j\Iy very dear lady, you haven't 
a penn3% 

Mrs. V. B. What! Do you know this ? 

3L: S. Mrs, A'an Brugh, I will be candid with you. The Sniaileys 
are a very, very old and very I'anious family. No suspicion of a bar 
sinister has ever shadowed their escutcheon. My son is betrotlied to 
your daughter, and I have reason to believe that you are not entitled 
to the name you bear. Theretbre, in his interests, and in those 
of his slumbering aueestors, I have taken stej^s to ascertain the truth. 

Mrs. l\ B. ( Miicli (Kiiiated.) What do you liope to prove? 

Mr. S. That when you went through the form of inarriage with 
the kite Captain Van Brugli you knew that his first wife was still 
alive. 

Mrs. V. B. (Wddlij.) No, no, no! Mr. Smailey, it is bad 
enough, but not so bad as that. Oh, LIr. Smailey, dismiss that fear- 
ful thouglit from your mind, aud I will tell you the truth I came 
here to tell. It's a bitter, bitter truth, but not so bad as you would 
make it out to be. 

Mr. 8. What is the truth ? r Sternly. 

3Ls. V. B. 1 — I — wlien I met Captain Van Brugh — I was very 
young, aud my mother was dead — and-— — 

(Bursts iiUo tears and sobs wddly, Imjlng her head on the iuhlc. 

Mr. S. What is the truth ? 

3Irs. V. B. Oh, man, man, can't you read it in these tears ? Is 
there not shame enough in my face, tiiat you M'aut it in shameful 
words. Read what you see liefore you, and as you are a man with a 
heart, keep my secret ; oh. keep my imhappy secret ! 

Mr. S. What ! am I to understand that you never even went 
through the/or»i of marriage with Captain Van Brugh ? 

Mrs. V. B. (Under her hrea.ih.) Never! 

3fr. S. (After a pause.) I decline to believe you. I had hoped 
that it was barely possible you were the unconscious dupe of a reck- 
less scamp. I now believe that you were well aware of the crime you 
were committing, and you take this step to avoid its legal conse- 
quences. 

Mrs. V. B. ( Wdh forced calmness. ) Mr. Smailey, I have, per- 
liai^R, no right to be indignant at this insult ; but you are mistaken 
--utterly mistaken. Have you uo pity, uo sympathy ? See, every- 
thing I possess is legally yours ; I leave your presence penniless. 



34 cHAErrr. 

Commence au action against me, and I will quietly yield up erery- 
thiug before the case comes into court ; but, if you love your son, 
spare me the shame, the intolerable shame, of a public exposure ! 

Mr. S. I will spare you nothing ; neither will I take the step you 
suggest, nor any other step to dispossess you. In this matter lam 
passive ; I leave you to act as conscience may prompt you. But un- 
derstand that I will be a party to no concealment, no subterfuge. 
On these terms, and on no other, will I consent to take this property. 

3frs. V. B. ( Wildly. ) What am I to do ? I can not keep it, and 
I have no one to advise me ! 

Mr. S. I will advise you. You have sinned, and must make 
atonement. There are witnesses at hand, let them hear the truth : 
whatever the truth may be, let them hear it. 

Ifi's. V. B. What witnesses ? 

Mr. S. Dr. Atheluey, my dear son, Kuth Tredgett, and your 
daughtei'. 

31rs. V. B. ( Wildly. ) No, no ; not before Eve. You cannot 
mean that I am to say this before Eve. Think, llr. Sniailey, what 
3'ou are asking me to do. I am her mother ! 

Mr. S. I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creature, but it is 
meet that she should know the truth. Indeed, as a principle, truth 
can not be too widely known. 

3Ir.i. V. B. But she knows nothing of this misei'able matter. 
She believes, as others believe, that I was married abroad and that 
my husband died soon after. 

Mr. S. A mother seeking to deceive her own c'hild ! 

3L-S. V. B. Take every penny I possess, but for Eve's sake spare 
me this intolerable shame. I will sign any deed you please that will 
convey my property to you, but leave me the love and honor of my 
darling child. 

3Ir. S. I decline to place myself in the invidious position of one 
who takes steps to dispossess a helpless lady ; I also decline to be a 
l>arty to any deception. If you refuse to malce the public admission 
I require, you may keep your ill-gotten wealth. 

31rs. V. B. Keep it ! Why I am here, of my own free will, to 
surrender into your hands my wealth, and with it my good name ! 

Mr. S. I feel it to be my duty to remind you that you have as 
little right to the one as to the other. 

Mr.s. V. B. What shall I do— what shall I do? If I refuse to 
publish my sin, this man will make it known to the whole world. 

Mr. S. No ; there you wrong me. Tliat would be an unmanly 
act indeed. Miss Brandreth. 

3frs. V. B. Miss J^ruulreth ! 

Mr. S. That, I presume, is your name. Pardon me, but iiou- 
that I know the truth, I could not conscientiously call you JMrs. Van 
Brugh. It would be a lie. I'or the future I shall call you i\Iiss 
Brandreth, but — I shall systematically withhold my reasons for so 
doing. 



J/)"s. V. B. Mr. Siiiiiiley, thiuk what you aro compelling nie to 
clo. I have sinned, and for many years I Lave iiuceasiugly endeavor- 
ed to atoue for that .sin. Blessed with an ample fortune, I have de- 
voted foiu-fifths of it to the rescue of the iTuhap[)iest among unhai>py 
women. In my search for them I have waded, year after year, 
through the foulest depths of misery and disgrace, with ears" and 
eyes outraged at every turn. lu the face of galling rebuke and in- 
sult unspeakable, in the face of cold ridicule and insolent miscon- 
struction, I have held on to the task 1 set myself, and through the 
mercy of heaven — the infinite mercy of heaven — I have succeeded. 
I have no desire to speak of these things, and to no other man would 
I utter them. But you talk to me of atonement ; and have 1 not 
atoned ? Oh ! have I not atoned ? 

Mr. S. See how the deeds and words of these last years show in 
the fierce light you have just thrown upon them. You have lost no 
opportunity of rebuking my hardness of heart because I can not par- 
don an act of immorality. See from what a foul and muddy source 
your own forgiveness springs. You have taunted me with my sever- 
ity towards wrong-doers. See from what an interested motive your 
own leniency arises. You have publicly assailed my want of charity. 
Had I the control of another man's income my charities might per- 
haps outvie your own. In one word, if you retain your social posi- 
tion, you are mox'ally an impostor. If you retain my propertj', you 
are morallj' 

Mrs. V. B. ( Internipiln'j him.) Euough ! l''ou have spoken, 
and I know you now. I can see through those cold hard ej'es down 
into the cold hard heart from which they take their tone. I read 
there the stony creed, "AM'omanwho has once fallen shall never 
rise again." So let it be. You are strong — for you have the world 
on your side. I am week — for I am alone. If I am to die this moral 
death, it shall be by my own hand. They sliall hea*" the truth. (Evk 
and Frederick have appeared at the window c. ; .,iie turns and sees 
them; they are foUojced by Dr. Athelney «n(J Edward.) Come here, 
Evo ; come here. Dr. Atheluey ; all of you come here. (Feed stands 
all,, table; Eve conies forward l.c. and kneels at li.er motlier's feet.) 
Eve, my darling, my pet — Eve dear, kiss me. Kiss me again and 
again — mj' child, my child ! Kiss me now, for you may never kiss 
me again. Dr. Athelney, you love me, I know. Edward, my dear 
old friend, listen while I tell you what manner of woman you have 
loved 

J^ath. ( Bushing foriDnrdbeticeenMB.s. Yat<i Bnvan and'EvE. ) No, 
no, mistress, you mustn't say it, don't, don't speak it ; for the love of 
mercy don't speak it. As I'm a sinful woman, it'll be worse than 
death to me. 

Mrs. V. B. I must go on to the end. Do j-ou know on what kind 
of thing you have lavished the treasure of your love? You have 
lavished it ou a fallen woman — a^ unhappy creature, who has com- 



36 



mittecl that one sin lor which on earth there is no atouement— no 
forgiveueas. You think of me fis Captain Vau Brugh's widow ; God 
forgive nie, I never was his wife ! 

(Ruth recoils from lier wUh, an exclamation of horror. Eve 
falls senseless into Edwaed's arms. Smailey ajfcZFKEDEiticK 
imlch the group from a corner of the sLige. 

Fked at L. table, 

^IB- V, B. c. Ruth. jj^. 

^. ^"" '■ V, 



END OF ACT HI. 



ACT IV. 

Scene. — Library at Dk. Athelney's. 
Mro. Van Brugh discovered sealed e.g., reading letters. 

3Irs. l\ B. "TlieHev. Mr. Tioemloio presents his compliments to 
Mrs. Van Brugh, and begs to return Iter anmial subscription of fifty 
guineas to the Fund for providing Shelter for the Homeless Poor. He 
does not feel justified, under the circumstances, in accepting any aid fi'om 
Mrs. Van liriigh on their behalf. With respect to th.e living to lohich 
Mrs. Van Brugh lias recently presented Mr. Tieemlow, he desires that 
site may ■understand that, if he consents to retain it, it is because lie feels 
that it affords him a more extended sphere of spiritual usefulness than 
the curacy he has hitherto held." (Opens anotlier letter.) "We, the 
aged occupants of the Locroft Almshouses, are humbly pained and re- 
spectfully shocked al the disclosures that have recently been made with 
reference to Miss Brandreth's relations with the late Captain V^an Brugh. 
We trust that it is unnecessary for us to add that, if it loere not tli.at the 
Almshouses jyass at once from Miss Brandreth's hands into those of aii 
upright and staiidess Christia7\, whom it is an }(onor respectfully to know 
and a satisfacti-0)i humbly to profit by, we u-ould not have consented to 
occupy them for another day ; we rcould rather have worked fjr our 
living. Signed. " ( Opens another letter. ) 



" Honored Madam, 

"T'Fe shall fed gredtli/ flailei'ed and ohlige.lif you xcill kbidbj 
afford us a sUlbir/for your pliokxjraph at your earliest convenience. 
"We are, Honored Madam, 

" With much, esteem, 

" 3fost respeclfiilly yours, 

Scum ley & Blpp." 

When these people address me, I iun degraded indeed ! My name a 
wortl of reproacli in every household iu the country ; my story a thing 
to be whispered and hinted at, but not to be openly discussed, by 
reason of its very shame. My years of atonement held to be mere 
evidi-nces of skilfully sustained hypocrisy. IMyself a confessed coun- 
terfeit, a base and worthless imposition, a living fraud on the im- 
maculate beings with whom I dared to surround myself. And Euth 
— Ruth, to whom my heart opened — even Ruth has left me. Poor 
blind, wayward woman, j'ou are of the world, worldlj' ; your idol is 
Khattered, and there is the end. 80 let it be ; it is meet that such as 
I should be alone ! 

Elder 'Eye, c, icho Jias overheard the last few lines. S!i.e approaches 
Iter another quietly, undx>laces Iter arms round her neck. 

Ece. (c. ) JIamma, you have many kind friends left to you ; Dr. 
.Vlheluey, who has given yon a home ; Edward and myself. 

Mrs. V. B. (r,.c. ) A daughter's love comes of honor. Can that 
love live without the honor that gives it sustenance? 

Eve. Mamma. I am very young, and I know little of the world 
and its ways. Will jon forgive me if I speak foolishly? Dear 
mamma, I think my love for you began with my life. It was born 
with me, and came of no other cause than that you are my mother. 
As I brought it with jne into the world, so I believe I shall take it 
with me out of the world. Do you understand me? I mean, that if 
I had lio other reason for loving than that you are my mother, I 
should .still love you, for I am your child. 

Mrs. V. B. A child to whom I have given a life that is worse 
than death ; a life that brings with it a curse that will be flung in 
your teeth by all who know you, and first of all, and above all, by 
him who was to have married yon. 

Eve. No, no ; your bitter sorrow has made you unjust. Remem- 
ber, he loves me. I do not know why he loves me, but whatever ho 
saw iu )ne to love is there still, i am not changetl, and why should 
he change? I trust his heart as I trust my own. 

Mrs. r. B. Eve. I know the world too well. That man will visit 
Tuy f\nlt npon you. He will renounce you now, my poor child, and 
the world will say he is right. 

Eve. I will believe this wlien I hear it from his own lips. 

Mrs. V. B. You will hear it to-day. It is part of the pnnishment 
of women who sin as I have sinned, that those who are dearest to 



38 CHABITT. 

them shall suffer Mith them. See how I am punished. I have 
placed a mark of shame ou you whom I love bej'oud allT)n earth, I 
have inflicted a lasting injury ou you whom I would have died to 
seiv^e. I have cursed you whom I would have blessed. I have de- 
graded you whom I would have exalted. Eve, my darling — out of 
my sin has come j'our love for me. I have no claim to that love. I 
have cheated you into honoring me ; for that honor comes of my sin, 
I do nf)t ask for love — I do not ask for honor. Humbled, lanworthy, 
and spirit-broken, I plead to you for pardon — only for pardon. 

(Kneels to Eve. 
Ece. Pardon ! My mother— my gentle-hearted mother. There is 
no thought in mj' mind but of the perfect woman of the past eighteen 
years. The luster of those years fills my world. I can see nothing 
else ; I will see )iothing else. As you have always been to me, so 
shall you always be — the type of gentle charity, tender helpfulness, 
brave, large-hearted womanly sympathy. When the bright light of 
those bygone years jjales in my eyes, then let me suffer ten times the 
sorrow of to-day, for indeed I shall have deserved ic. 

(She rises and they embrace. 

Enter Frrz Paktington, cautiously, l. 

Mrs. V. B. Mr. Fitz Partington ? 

FUz. (L.) Yes, but don't be alarmed. If it is open to a person 
in my debased position to be regarded as a friend, regard me as one. 

(Eve e.g. 

Mrs. V. Jj. (c. ) Mr. Fitz Partington, I did you an injustice 
when I saw you last— I doubted you. AYill you forgive me? 

(Holding out her hand. 

Fitz. (Much affected, takes it.) Ma'am, this is the most unpro- 
fessional moment of my career. No one ever apologized to me be- 
fore. It is very unmanning. It is like having a tooth out. I hope 
no one will ever apologize to me again. 

Fve. (E. c. ) Have you brought r.s any news, Mr. Fitz Partington ? 
I am sure you are here for some kind purpose. 

Fitz. It is luy fate to appear continually before yoi; in the charac- 
ter of the Mysterious Warner of penny romance. Mrs. Van Brugh, 
once more, beware of Smailey. That abject man is going at you 
again. 

31rs. V. B. Has he not done with me yet ? Can I be poorer than 
I am — or more unhappy — or more despised ? 

Fitz. He proposes to make you so, but he will be sold. 

Eve. But with what motive does he do this? 

Fitz. Revenge. To adapt the words of the poet to Smailey 's 
frame of mind, "Revenge is sweet, especially ou woman." 

Mrs. V. B. Eevenge on me! Through him, whom I have never 
injured, I have lost my home, my fortune, and my good name, and 
he, seeks reveoge ou jue ? 



CaAKITT. 39 

Fitz. Mrs. Van Brugli, if it is a source of pain to j-ou to know 
that your friends Lave cut you, it may console yoii to know, tbat in 
their strict impartiality they Lave also cut hhn. He is hooted lu the 
streets. His windows are a public cockshy. Nobody is at home lo 
him, and tliough he is at home to everybody, it is' to no pnrposf. 
The very tradesmen refuse to supply him. He is a desolate, ami a 
hungry lieing, and nobody calls on him except the taxes. 

Eve. I fear, Mr. Fitz Partington, that you may yourself have 
suffered from your association witU tins man. 

Fitz. ( To Eve.; I? I believe you ! Why I go about in fear of 
my life. Not only am I deprived of the necessaries of existence, but 
I have become the very focus of public execration. I couldn't be 
more unpopular if I had come down to stand for the borough. 

Eve. (Orossiiig to Frrz i,.) But, Mr. Fitz Partington, how in 
heaven's name does he propose to injure my mother? What can he 
do to her, that he has not already done ? 

Fitz. (L.) He is advertising for the present Jlrs. Van Brugh's 
marriage certificate, and the late ]\Irs. Yau Brugh's burial certilicate, 
with a view to a prosecution for bigamy. 

Eve. (c.) Mamma, mamma, do you hear this? (Embraces lier. 

Mrs. V. B. (K.c.) Yes, I hear it. I knew that he had conceived 
this monstrous idea, but I have already assured him there is no 
grouiul for his suspicion. I have told him (((/lev a pause, and with 
vmch shaute) the truth. 

Fitz. Yes, but he don't believe you. Bead that. (Winds neios- 
paper to Eve, u-ho gives it in Jlns. Van Brugh, poinding oid advertise- 
ment; Mks. Van Brvgb. sits r.c. ) Such is the snake-like and foxy 
character of that unparalleled old Pharisee, that he don't ])elieve you. 
Why, I am a professional skeptic at two guineas a day, and even I 
believe yon. 

3L-S. V. B. (Wlto has leen reading the advertisement. ) This is 
most shameful. I have borne my terrible punishment to this point 
patiently, and without undue nnirnmr, but I will bear no more. Let 
that man know this. He has roused me at last, and I will meet him 
face to face. Let him know that, helpless and friendless as he be- 
lieves me to be ; crushed as I am under the weight of the fearful re- 
velation he has extorted from me ; shunned as I am, and despised 
even bj' those whom all despise but T, I am yet strong iu this, that I 
have nothing more to lo.se. He has made me desperate, and let him 
beware. Tliere are men in these days as hot in the defence of an in- 
sulted woman as iu the days gone by, and he shall have a legion of 
them .ibout his ears. I have been punished enough. I will be pun- 
ished no lurther. 

Eve. ( To Fitz. ) But %vho could have pirt this monstrous scheme 
into his head? What demon could have .suggested it to him ? 

Fitz. I suggesteil it to him, ))ut I ain't a demon. 



S--\]2;,,d/.e,-.[You! 



40 CHARITT. 

FUz. I — I drev/ up the advertisement, put it iu, aud paid for it. 
It's n, dodge, I've put him on a wrong scent. 
Mrs. V. B. How am I to understand this ? 

F'dz. That's just it ; you are nol to understand — at present. You 
are to do me justice to believe that, when yon do understand it, you 
will like it very much. I've put him on a wrong scent, and if I'm not 
very much mistaken, it will have (he effect of taking him in his own 
toils. For the present it is enough to tell j'oi; that his advertisement 
has been answered, and that the person who answered it is to meet 
him here this afternoon. 

Mrs. V. B. Here ? Why does he come to me ? 
F'dz. Because he conceives, witli some reason, that you are not 
likely to go to hira. But don't be alarmed. 7 shall accompany him, 
as i)er usual. (E.at Fitz Pautington, l. 

Mrs. V. B. ( Seated V-Q., covering htr face.) Oh, theslianie of it! 
Oh, the shame of it ! To know that my terrible story is the common 
gossip of every plow-boy in the village ; to feel that there is not a 
flighty servant-girl who does not gather her skirts about her as she 
passes me ; to be certain when M'omen cross the road it is to escape 
the contamination of my presence ; and when they meet me f.ice to 
face, it is that they may toss their head and tell each other that they 
knew it from the first ! Oh, the shame of it ! Oh, the shame of it ! 
Eve. But Mr. Smailey can do nothing. His wicked schemes nmst 
recoil t;pou himself. We will leave Locroft ; we will leave this fearful 
place. Dr. Athelney sails iu a fortnight, and he has made arrange- 
ments that we may accompany him. There, in a new world, with 
new friends and new duties, \\'& shall forget all that is bitter iu the 
past, and gather uew stores of happiness frou^ the future that is be- 
fore us. ( They embrace. 

Enter Da. Athelney, c. Crosses to Eve. 

Dr. A. (c.) Mrs. Van Brngh ; Eve, my dear, prepare yourself 
for a surprise. This morning, Mrs. Van Brugh and I were discuss- 
ing Frederick Smailey's probable course of action. That very good 
or very bad young man is-at this moment crossing the lawn with my 
son, 'i'ed. He is coming with the view, no doubt, of settling all future 
discussion on that point at rest. Let us suspend judgment on that 
admirable or detestable lad until he has explained himself. 

Eve. (I-.) I knew he would come; 1 was sure of it. Mamma, 
dear, I told you he loved me, I told yoix he would come. 

Enter Fred and Ted Athelney, arm-in-Min, from c. Tliey close the 
doors after them. 
Fred. (L.c~) Eve! 
Eve. ( L., ranninij io 1dm. ) Fred, my dear Fred ! 

(He embraces her. 
Ted. (c. ) Heie ho is, I was sure of him ; Eve and I were both 
sure of him. Wc knew him, Eve, didn't we? 



CHARITY. 41 

Erd. Edward came to me, Mrs. Van Brugb, and told me that— 
that you doubted me. (31uch afected. 

Ted. Yes, I told him that. Don't be angry with me, but when 
Fred Smailey's honor is at stake, Ted Atheluey doesn't beat about 
the bush. I went straight to him and told him at once how lbs land 
lay. "Fred," said I, "Eve knows you, and I know you, but the 
others don't. Come over with me and show them what you really 
are. Show them that you are the brave, straight-hearted, thorough- 
going fellow I know j-ou to be." He didn't give me time to say it 
twice. 

Fied. Mrs. Van Brugh, will you take ray hand? (Shakes her 
liand. Crosses to n.c. ioDn. A., then shakes his liand. ) Dr. Athel- 
uey, my very dear friend, this is very, very kind of you. You are 
too noble-hearted a man to confound the son with the lather. 

Dr. A. I hope and trust, sir, that I have done you an injustice. 

( Goes up c. 

Fred. (R.c.) Mrs. Van Brugh, I knoAV not how to express my 
ojiiniou of my father's behavior in terms that would be consistent 
with my duty as a son. I am most painfully situated. Permit me 
to content myself with offering you my deepest and most respectful 
sympathy. 

31 IS. V. B. (K.) Mr. Smailey, you speak very kindly. 

Ted. (L.c.) And he means kindly, mind that. I'll stake my life 
he means kindly. 

Freil. Thank you, Edward ; thank you very heartily. My father, 
Mrs. Van Brugh, is, I have learnt, a very hard man ; a good man, a 
truly good man, but a very hard one. He is unaccountably incensed 
against you ; I have pleaded for you, but, alas, in vain. I have im- 
plored him to allow you, at least, to continue to occupy the cottage 
which is endeared to me by so many happy recollections, dear Eve, 
but in vain. ( He takes Eve's Iiand. ) He — he answered me harshly 
for the first time in his life. (Much moved. De. A. comes down l. 

Ted. (L.C. ) My very de.'ir fellow, heaven bless you for that. 

(Eve goes up l. 

Fred. Under these circumstances T said to myself, How can I 
lighten this intolerable burden to them? If not to Mrs. Van Brugh, 
at least to Eve. I lay awake all last night, thinking it over, and at 
last— at last I saw my way. 

Ted. ( To De. A. ; Trust Fred Smailey to find the right thing to 
do. (Eve comes down e.c. 

Fred. I said to myself. Here is an amiable and blameless young 
lady placed, through no fault of her own, in the painful position of 
. being engaged to a member of a family which has done her and her 
mother a fearful and irreparable injury. Association with such a 
family must be, to her, a source of inconceivable distress. To a 
sensitive and high-minded girl, such as I know my darling to be, an 
alliance with such a family must be simply insupportable. Deeply' 
as I love hei>, and because I love her deeply, I will fight with the 



42 CHABITV. 

great love that is within ine ; I will act as becomes a man of honor ; 
I will at once, and of m.y own free will, release her from this engage- 
ment. Eve, my dear Eve, you are free. 

(EvE/aJnis in Mrs. Van Brdgh's arms. 

Mis. V. B. My darling ! ]\Ty poor, poor darling ! (Sits. 

Dr. A. ( Crossing io c.) Sir, I have been a clergyman of the 
Church of England for five-and-forty years, and, nntil to-daj% 1 have 
never regretted the restrictions that my calling has imposed npon lue. ' 
I\Iy bands, sir, are tied. Ted, my boy, these remarks do not apply 
to you. ( Goe.'i up c. 

Ted. (Crosses to Fred SmaileyJ You infernal villain! You 
unutterably mean and sneaking villain ! (Seizing him. 

Mrs. V. B. Edward ! Edward ! (Bising. 

Ted. Don't stoj) me, or I shall kill him. Look there, you misera- 
ble hound, (pointing to Eve^ look there ! Do you see the work that 
your infernal heart has done? Wlij', you miserable cur, she loved 
you ! You trembling hypocrite, she loved you ! Eve loved you — 
loved ?/oi( .' Look at her, man, and if your devil's heart don't beat 
the harder for the sight, it hasn't a beat left in it ! 

Mrs. V. B. Dr. Atheluey, pray, pray stop him. 

Dr. A. (Comes doion c.) Stop him? No, certainly not. I'm 
too fond of plain truth, and i hear it too seldom to stop it when I do 
hear it. Go on Avith your remarks, my boy, if you've anything else 
to say. 

Eater Smailex, followed hy Frrz Partington, l. 

Mr. S. (To Dr. A..) When yoxn son has quite finished shaking 
any son, perhaps yon will kindly devote a little attention to me. 

Fred. Edward, I sincerely hope you may live to apologize for 
this. 

(Offers to shake hands; Ted refuses. Fred bounces i(p stage; 
Ted sits x..c. up stage. 

Dr. A. Mr. Smaile.y, I nnist tell you that your presence here is an 
act of audacity for which I was not prepared. 

3[r. S. I fear that the surprise of my apjjearauce here is but the 
first of a series of surprises in store for you. 

Fitz. (Aside l. ) And I am convinced of it. 

Dr. A. (c.) Leave my hou.se, sir ! (' 2o Smailey. 

Mr. S. (L. c. ) Nay, nay. I am here in the discharge of a high 
public dutj% and I propose to remain. Come, Dr. Athelney, is this 
quite considerate? Is this quite as it should be? You ara ii minister 
of the Cliurch, about to 1)6 invested with the very liighest Colonial 
functions. In affording shelter to this unhapi^y person, have you not 
allowed your sympathy for her misfortunes to blind you to the fact 
that you area clergyman? 

Dr. A. ( To Mr. Smailet, ) Sir, 1 never had my duty as a chjrgy- 
man so strongly before my eyes as when I placed my home at the 
disposal of this admirable lady. And, believe me, sir, I never felt so 



CHAEITT. 43 

strongly disposed to forget nij' duty as a clergyman as I do ac this 
moment. My bands are tied. Ted, my boy, these remarks do not 
ai^ply to you. 

Ted. f Jumping rip, -L-c. np stage. ) Mr. Smailey, if you'll come 
with me, I'll see you out. 

Fitz. (ToTeu.) See him out? Nonsense. Hear bim out. He's 
worth listening to, I can tell you. (Exit Tkd, c. 

31r. 8. Miss Brandreth, (to Mrs. Van Buugh) when you denied 
having ever gone through tlie form of marriage with Captain Van 
Briigh, I considered it my duty, as a magistrate accustomed to deal 
with evidence, to di.shelieve you. At the suggestion of my solicitor — 
(Aside to Fitz. ) A lie, sir, for you are no solicitor ; heaven forgive 
you ! (Aloud. ) At his suggestion I advertised for the burial certifi- 
cate of the late Mrs. Van Brugh. That advertisement has been an- 
swered. 

Fitz. That advertisement has been answered. 

J/r. S. The person who answered it is at this moment waiting 
without. 

Fitz. Waiting without. 

Mr. S. And, with or without your permission, shall be introduced. 

Fitz. Shall be introduced. (Cross up c. 

Jfc. S. Mr. Fitz Partington shall introduce him. 

Fitz. It ain't a Idm, it's a Iter. 

( Opens c. door, and discovers Ruth. 

Mrs. V. B. Euth Tredgett ! ( Cross to e.g. 

liuth. Ay, missis, 'tain't no other. 

Mr. S. SVhat does this mean ? Is this a hoax? 

( Indignantli/, to Fitz Partington. 

Fitz. Is this a hoax? ( Appealijig to the others ; cross to t.. 

Mr. S. What does this woman want here? 

Fitz. Woman, what do you want here? 

Enih. Want to help you agm her. (Indicating Mrs. Van Brugh. 

Mrs. V. B. (Rc.) Oh, llnth, Euth! 

Mr. S. (L.c. ) Do you mean this, Tredgett? ( Crosses to IXvth. 

Enth. Ay, I mean it, Smailey. It's justice ; and justice must be 
done. It was done agin me, years ago, and why not agin her now? 

Mr. S. Dr. Atheluey, this poor woman is an example to you. 
She has learned her mistress's true character. 

Until. Ay, I have. I have learned my missis's true character. 

Mrs. V. B. Euth, how have I injured 3-ou, that even you turn 
against me? I loved you, Euth! (Fitz goes tip l.c. 

Ituth. ( WiVi. some emotion.) You ha'n't injured me, but I'm a 
'spectable woman. You've made me 'spectable, and you must bide 
the consequence. (' To Mr. Smailey. J You want the burial-ticket 
of Captain Van Brugh's dead wife? 

3Ir. S. Yes ; I have offered £50 for it. 

BiUh. Gi' us the money. 

Mr. S. Why? 



-14 



RuUi. I've got the paper. 

Mr. S. How? How did you get it? 

linUi. No odds liow. I've got it. 

J\[i: S. Give it to me, and you shall be paid. 

Buth. Nay, I must ha' the brass first. 

Mr. S. As soon as I've verified it j'ou shall be paid. 

Eutlu Maybe you'll take some time over it. I must ba' tlie brass. 

Mr. S. (Giving her a hank note.) There is the money, but miud, 
if you are deceiviug lue, there is a coustablo outside. 

liulh. No fear. ( Tears up the noie. 

Mr. S. You fool, what have you done ! Give me the paper. 

Jlulli. I'll give it to him. 

C Indicating Frrz Paktington, wlio has come heiween ihem Jj.c. 

Fitz. (Takes paper and reads.) "St. Andrew's Church, Port 
Philip, 17 July, 1858." 

Mr. S. 'Fifty-eight ! XVhy, she died iu '69 — I know she died in 
'69. This is some forgery — we shall want the constable ye(. 

Fitz. Tliis is some forger}'. We shall want tlie constable yet. 
(Beads. ) '-This is to certify that on the above date I read the burial 
service over the remains of Martha Vane, of Port Philip." 

(Smailey sinks into a chair l. 

Dr. A. (n. corner. ) Martha Vane ! 

Mrs. V. B. (R.c. ) That was her maiden name, the name imder 
which she passed when she lefi her husbaud. 

Mr. S. (Much confused. ) This is not what I advertised for. 

Fitz. No, but it's what /advertised for. 

Mr. S. You ? What have you to do with this ? 

Fitz. I was engaged to trace this forgery to yoxi at the time when 
you engaged me to undermine the character of this inestimable lady. 
In strict compliance with the terms of our contract, you have allowed 
me the free run of all j'our books, papers, and memoranda, and I am 
much obliged to yon. 

Fred. ( Wlio has heard this icilh the greatest concern, comes down 
stage i,.c.) Father! Tell them that it's a lie. 

Vitz. (c.) It ain't a lie. The case is only too clear. Tredgelt 
and ho were both in it, but she turns Queen's evidence. Mr. Smailey, 
I desire to press hardly on no fellow-creatu.ie, but your own police- 
man is Avithout, and he \\\\\ be happy to walk off with you whenever 
you find it convenient to be aitested. 

(About to touch Smatlet on shoidder. 

Fred. Father, tell them that it's a lie. (ToFiiz.) Keep your 
hands off him,— stand bacij — it's a lie, I tell you. Stand back, or I 
shall do you a mischief. Father, whatever others believe of you, / 
believe yon to be the best and truest man on eirth. For my sake, for 
the sake of my belief, tell them tliat it's a lie. For the love of God, 
(eil them it's a lie. 

J/;'. iS. I have nothing to say, my boy : I have lied enough. 



Fred. But they will tiike you away ! Great heaveu, think what 
will follow ! 

Mr. IS. I care not what may follow. "Whatever punishment moy 
bo iu store for nie, will be as nothing compared to the bitter shame 
of mj' de,E;radatiou iu the eyes of my poor boy, whom I have loved. 
He will desert me now ! Aud what matters the rest — what matters 
the rest? 

Fred. Father, I swear that where you are, there will I be to the end. 

J/)'. S. Heaveu bless you for that. 

Fred. "Whatever you may have been — whatever J may have been — 
I am your son, aud I love you ; aud I will be with you — to the eud I 

( Goes %ip c. 

Mr. S, And the end is at hand. (Follow 'up c. 

Filz. And the end is at hand. 

(Kveunt Fbedekick Smailey, folloned hy Fitz Paktington c, 

Mr. S. Pah ! 

(Slrids out c. Eve slrdches ovi her arms towards Fkedeeick 
as he goes, hitt lie does not see her. 

liuth. ( Who, during the preceding dialogue, lias been kneeling at 
Mrs. Van Brugh's /ee/. ^ Mistress, my good and kind mistress, I 
had that paper in safe keeping miles away. I walked day and night 
to fetch it. It was hard to leave you in your sorrow, but none other 
could have got it. My mistress, my pure aud perfect mistress, my 
angel from lieaven, we will never part again. 

Mrs. V. B. AVe will never part again, Euth. "Under the guidance 
of our loving friend, we w ill sail to the new land, where humblj^ as 
becomes penitents, cheerfully as becomes those who have hope, ear- 
nestly as becomes those who speak out of the fullness of their expe- 
rience, we will teach lessons of loving kindness, patience, faith, for- 
bearance, hope, and charity. 

l)r. A. "And the greatest of these is Chaeitt."' 



DlsposUion of C'hnraders. 



vne^Una^-^^- Mrs. V.B. ...«,,,, ^_^_ 









ST -^^ 



Cvr.TAUs'. 



THE ETHIOPIAN DRAMA. 

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55 1G,( 

Er 



[pids. 



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Sketch. 



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